And I Die
by Gregora
Summary: The adventures of Melissa Olmstead as she travels with the Doctor. Written for NaNoWriMo and is my first Doctor Who fic, so please don't kill me. Rated M for later chapters (mostly because of my paranoia, using a college textbook as a weapon, and implied rape via flashbacks). Reviews are welcomed and appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A Foot in the Grave

So this is how it ends. I'm going to die and this wasn't how I'd expected to go out. If anyone had asked me even a year ago how I thought I was going to go out, I would've told them that I'd live to the ripe old age of three hundred or that I would never die due to the coming technological singularity. But I guess fate had decided that it had other ideas for me. Here I am, barely twenty-five years old and I'm about to die. I can't do anything to avoid this, not that I'd actually escape from this decision, this situation.

I glance over to the only humanoid in the room, the man who had pulled me into the adventure of a lifetime and the path that led to this one moment. I couldn't actually call him a human since he was a member of an ancient race that came before humanity. To him, humanity resembles his people, since they had come first.

He stood off to my left, staring at me with one of the saddest looks I've ever seen on his face. I could almost see tears welling up in his green eyes as he frowned at me. I knew that he didn't want to see me die. To be honest, I didn't want to see me die, either. Regardless of anyone's wants, I needed to die if I wanted to save humanity. This was my one chance to be a hero and save the day.

"I have two requests," I stated, looking at the alien who held the weapon pointed to me.

"What are your requests?" the alien asked, sounding curious.

"Request one," I stated as I turned my head to face my friend without moving my feet, "I want you to tell every friend you'll meet after this about me. I want you to keep me alive in your mind and in your memory, regardless of how painful it is. If you don't, then I'll be truly dead."

"Olmstead," he said, sadness and fear entering his voice as he used my last name, "you don't have to do this! There's got to be another way. I refuse to acknowledge this option."

"I don't see you coming up with any other ideas," I told him with a frown, shaking my head at him, "we both know that there are no other options."

"And your second request?" the alien asked, grabbing my attention as I turned my upper body to look at it calmly.

"I want my death to be quick and painless," I stated as I closed my eyes, preparing myself to feel the searing heat of a blast of energy pierce my body.

I was going to die. There were no options open to me other than to sacrifice myself. This was how my story was going to end. And I wouldn't want to change it for anything. I could feel a smile form on my lips as I felt free. The burdens I carried that felt like a solid metric ton disappeared as I realized that I was feeling quite peaceful. I was at peace with my life and with my death. I was ready.

It was during those long seconds that my mind reminded me of the path that led me here. The adventures I had with my friend, the people we've helped, the disasters we've averted. And in the long moments, I started to remember. In those long moments, I knew how I wanted my story be told and if there's anyone I knew who would do it and me justice, it would be my friend.

Because it all started with him on a cold October day, almost five years ago. And it will end with him, almost five years later from my perspective.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The First Steps on the Path

I looked up from my DS, seeing my father still lying on his bed in the hospital room. He had been sleeping more and more lately, which worried me. The room had a window, overlooking most of the small city from the fourth floor. What made the room have a decent view was because the hospital itself was on top of a rather steep hill that I would never, ever walk up regardless of the situation. It may not be all that big of a hill but it was steep enough that I was scared of slipping and wind up breaking my neck from the fall as I fell all the way down. It also didn't help that the city was also in a valley that was bisected by a river.

This was the city I've lived in for as long as I could remember. This was my home. I've always loved the sight of my hometown from such a height. I could make out the massive park in the downtown district. But I wasn't in the hospital just for the sight. I turned back to look at my father who was barely in his mid-fifties. He was the only parent who was always there for me. All my life, he was always there for me. I could say that I was always there for him too. We were really close, been really close since I could remember. Since we only had each other, we never really had really big arguments that most teenagers and young adults had. We respected each other and in a way, he was the best friend I've always had.

I let out a sigh of worry, hoping that he'd get better and turned back to my video games. It was that exact moment that my life changed. It was that exact moment that I met him.

"'Ello, this is Derrick Malcolm's room, right?" a man asked, rushing in as his words seemed to be coming at me at a hundred miles an hour.

"Uhh...yeah," I stated, feeling a bit unnerved at the sight of this strange man.

He clearly had some sort of accent from the England-ish area. This coming from an American who believed that the best exports from the UK were Monty Python and Whose Line Is It Anyway. I knew enough to know when the accent I'm hearing is from another country and perhaps to know which country the accent was from.

I felt unnerved right at that exact moment following his question partly because of his accent, partly because of how he held himself, and mostly due to his choice of dress. He looked like he was full of energy with his hair looking like it was channeling the brunt of his energy. He seemed like he was incredibly old and yet young at the same time, which I thought was unusual.

He was pretty tall but looked as if he was as skinny as a rail with messy brown hair. He had a blue suit on with a red tie and on top of the suit was a brown coat. He didn't look like anyone who would be working at the hospital. He looked respectfully at my father before his brown eyes focused on me.

"He's been sleeping a lot lately," I told him, seeing him frown at that.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" he asked, looking at me.

"Can I ask you who you are first?" I asked in reply.

"I'm The Doctor," he stated with a grin.

"You hardly look like a doctor. Besides, 'doctor' is a title, not a name," I pointed out.

"It's what I go by."

"A pseudonym," I stated.

"Pretty much. Yes. You've been here for a while," he stated.

"A week, keeping my dad company. Why?"

"Have you noticed anything strange in this hospital?"

"Do you count?"

"Yes," he blurted before correcting himself, "no. What?"

"You're definitely pretty strange and you're really the strangest thing I've seen in a while."

"Okay, besides me."

"Well, there are rumors, but no. Nothing I've seen that hits me as odd aside from you."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Well, I'd tell ya, but I dunno... Some information about you would be nice."

"Fiine," he said with a sigh, pulling out what almost looked to be a wallet, showing me a piece of paper, "As you can see, I've been sent by the Department of Health and Human Services to investigate the hospital."

"And I suppose your piece of paper was supposed to say something?" I asked.

"Don't tell me it's blank," he stated with a sigh.

"Nope, but it looks fake," I stated with a smirk, "I could prolly make a more convincing one with five minutes and Photoshop. Sides, it lists your age as being over nine hundred."

He let out a sigh, pocketing the wallet-like item before lowering himself to my level, "okay, fine. I'll tell you the truth but only if you swear you'll keep it between us."

"Okay."

"I'm an alien who protects humanity and my ship detected a strange reading from the hospital."

"I'll play along with that story. Could be fun. So, it seems that your ship was unable to specifically pinpoint the energy reading from the inside, which, knowing what I know of science fiction, means that there might be some type of interference on the outside. I assume you've got something to scan for the energy reading now that you're inside the hospital."

"There's something interfering with the scan on the inside too," he stated with a frown.

"So then, how do you plan on tracking down the reading? If you keep pestering people, they'll think you've gone funny in the head."

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Yeah, but I'm playing along. I'm pretty sure that's what one does with the harmless kinda crazy people. Sides, sitting around playing video games and nothing else has kinda worn thin. And on the other hand, if you really are what you say you are, this can turn out to be a fun adventure."

"I'm not going to let you follow me, so just tell me what rumors you've heard and I'll be off," he stated, sounding stern.

"Let's see, I have heard from Jessie that Pam's pregnant with her second kid which in and of itself is kinda strange...actually, seeing as how it is Pam, it really isn't. Then I heard that the High School had a ghost haunting it and used to have a pool on the fourth floor even though the school itself only has three floors."

"How does that have to do with the hospital?"

"I never said that all of the rumors involved the hospital."

"Do you know anything about this hospital that I'd find interesting?"

"Actually, last night, I was eating down in the cafeteria and overheard two nurses talking. All I got is that someone died with no known cause, about two floors down from here and that it seems that random people are falling due to whatever's causing it. Was that what you wanted."

"Yes, now stay here," he stated, looking at me.

"It's boring in here, watching my dad sleep," I stated lightly.

"Boring is good," he stated, "well, for you at least."

I watched as he walked out of the room and I smirked to myself as I set my DS down and walked out. I was able to see him, since he hadn't gone running off and I decided that I may as well follow from a distance since he probably wouldn't notice me. At least, not for a while. I saw him stand at the elevator and I knew I couldn't keep following without him noticing me. I saw that there was no one else waiting for it, so I waited behind a corner. When those doors opened, I waited until he entered the elevator and booked it, running as if my life depended on it. I breathed a sigh of relief as I got in before the doors closed.

When I looked up, I was greeted by a death glare.

I've seen death glares on tv and in real live alike. Some death glares were as intimidating as a kitten while others cause the victim to unconsciously step back while feeling as if they now have a hole in their body. I felt like that glare was like the laser of the Death Star in comparison of the worst death glare I had received up to that point. I unconsciously took a step back and caught myself mentally praying for my life. It was that bad.

"I told you not to follow me," he stated, sounding much like a parent chiding a very difficult child, coming from one who once was a very difficult child.

I glanced around, noticing that we were alone moments before the elevator doors opened. He stepped out and before he could do anything to the doors – assuming that he could really do anything to the doors – I stepped out, following him. Since I was as tall as my dad, I found that it wasn't too difficult to match strides with the guy as I continued our conversation.

"Anything's better than just sitting around being useless," I said, perhaps a little too bitterly, "I know my dad's getting worse and there's nothing I can do but sit around."

"I don't want any more people dying because they were involved," he stated.

"And I don't wanna be spending my time sitting around being useless," I replied, crossing my arms in front of me, doing my best to level my own death glare at the man who had introduced himself to me as The Doctor.

"I don't want to be responsible for your death," he stated.

"I'm twenty. I think at this point, you can say with a clear conscience that you warned me and that it was my own choice. Wouldn't you say that at my age, I should have the responsibility of having my own life on my own shoulders? That I should be mature and responsible enough to make my own decisions about my life and how I want to live it? Or do you think that you have to make everyone else's decisions for them, thinking that you know oh so much more than they do or that you know everything so of course you'd know what's best for them even if it isn't what they want out of life? Huh?" I rattled off at him, noticing that at several points, he did open his mouth to speak but I had continued on at a breakneck pace even for myself.

At the point I finished ranting at him, I saw that he had his hand rubbing the back of his neck, looking particularly rueful before asking, "are you done?"

"I think so," I stated with a pause as I looked for anything else to say in my noggin before deciding that I had actually ran out of things to say and I nodded, saying, "yeah, I am. Why?"

"Good because I think the whole hospital heard your rant," he stated with a smirk.

Oh crap.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Leading a Merry Chase

"What are we doing here?" I asked, keeping my hands in my pockets as I surveyed the room, which was a blood lab.

"I'm going to see if I can find something in some of these blood samples," he responded, having put glasses on with thick rims.

"Near-sighted?" I asked, looking at the glasses.

"No," he stated simply.

"If you were far-sighted, you'd need them to see where you were going. Astigmatism?"

"My sight's perfect, thanks."

"So costume glasses," I stated before asking, "so why did you drop the whole 'this is too dangerous' thing? I doubt that it was entirely that rant."

"It wasn't entirely your rant. More along the lines that I realized that the more I'd try to push you away, the more you'd fight it."

"The more you pushed, the more I felt that it could be interesting and exciting," I stated, giving a glance around at the lab, "are you sure there's nothing I could do?"

"Giving you directions would only distract me, which you're already doing by talking."

"I've always been a bit of a motormouth. It's not because I like hearing myself talk. I actually hate my voice. It's because I like having myself being heard."

"I'm definitely hearing you," he stated as I wandered around the lab.

"Ya know, I just realized something definitely strange."

"What's that?"

"This is a medical lab."

"Yes. Yes it is."

"It's typically staffed around the clock."

"That may be the case, but it's typically empty or almost so at around lunch time. Most of the tests are being done late at night with the tests leaving in the morning and most of the tests coming in when all the clinics in the area start closing," he stated.

"So we don't have much time before we need to leave," I surmised.

"Which is why you shouldn't be distracting me."

I was about to walk around the room again when I heard the door open. I glanced at the Doctor with raised eyebrows as he stood up, clearly getting a plan. I realized that while he could be able to bluff his way out of this alone, he'd have to work much more to cover me.

"Who are you two and what are you doing here?" the burly man who had entered the room asked.

"We're from the Department of Health and Human Services, sent to investigate the abnormal deaths," the Doctor stated.

"We're in the middle of processing a sample taken from one of the victims," I added, getting the idea that perhaps we could bluff them by acting like we belonged there, after all, everyone on some level are trained - if not raised - to recognize and react to those who at least seem to have some sense of leadership.

I saw him give me a quick glance. Was it a glance of telling me to back off? That I was reading his mind? Or was it a glance to tell me to shut up. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that it was all three.

"Another inspector?" the man asked with an irritated sigh before saying, "let me see your identification."

"Here," the Doctor said, handing over the same paper I had seen through earlier as the burly man turned to look at me.

"And you, Miss..."

"Johnson. Mary Johnson. I'm a new intern so I've yet to get an ID badge yet. Mr. Smith here is training me," I stated with a polite smile, trying to bluff my own way.

"Even interns get their IDs before they are given assignments," the burly man stated, handing the Doctor his wallet-like item back, giving both of us a look that said that he didn't buy it.

"Run," the Doctor said, grabbing my wrist and pulled me along behind him as I tried to keep up.

We ran to the stairwell and down the stairs, knowing that we might be able to lose them if we were clever enough and fast enough. I heard their footsteps behind us as the Doctor pulled me onto another floor as someone else was leaving that floor and down corridors. The footsteps behind us were a good distance away as I noticed that we were passing the restrooms.

"Restrooms!" I exclaimed, knowing that we weren't in sight of our pursuers yet.

"Now's not a good-" he started before pausing and saying, "good idea."

I felt my wrist being let go and I bolted into the womens' restroom, glad that there was no one there as I entered the furthest stall and locked it. I wondered how long I had to wait until the coast was clear as I caught my breath. My legs were burning from all the running, which was probably more than I've ever done in one sprint. Of course, I had never run while on adrenaline. I watched as my hands shook before they became steady and I felt that the adrenaline was out of my system.

It was then that I heard doors open and I decided to act like I was just a normal girl using the restroom. It was only two girls talking.

"You've gotta feel sorry for the guy," one stated.

"Yeah." the other replied, "he looks quite impatient waiting for his younger sister."

Was it a trap or was it the Doctor waiting for me? Or maybe it was a trap set by the Doctor waiting for me? That was the extent of my thoughts as I left the stall, washing my hands and leaving the restroom as the two women were working on their makeup.

"Waiting on me long?" I asked, seeing the Doctor waiting up for me outside the womens' restroom.

"Felt like ages," he stated with a smirk before we walked away from the restrooms.

"Had to go tell those two that you were waiting on a younger sister, did you?"

"Better than the truth," he stated with a shrug.

"Fair enough. So what's the plan?" I asked as we arrived at the elevator.

"I didn't get to find a clue there in time," he stated as he pressed the button to go up.

"So what kinda clue were you looking for anyways?" I asked as we got into the elevator and he pressed the button for the floor I was on in the first place.

"There's gotta be some other connection between the deaths besides the location," he stated quickly, "because even that seems random. They don't even have a floor in common and each of them seemingly have nothing in common other than the fact that they suddenly died from a mysterious cause that doesn't match any contagion I know of." he stated as the elevator stopped.

"So we lack a common link besides the hospital. Do we even know if the same is happening at any other hospitals?" I asked the Doctor as we walked down the corridors.

"I don't think so. If it's happening at other hospitals, then they're really keeping it real quiet. Rumors would've already spread like they have about this hospital." he stated as we entered the room, "which makes me wonder why you and your dad are here and not at another hospital."

"We're on state-funded medical coverage. We can only go to the closest hospital if an ambulance is called or we'd have to take the city bus. He just likes to hold off on seeing a doctor until it is an emergency," I stated with a frown.

"Was he this tired before he arrived?" the Doctor asked, his voice low and quiet, obviously wanting to be sensitive about the situation.

"He started sleeping more and more about the third day here," I stated with a frown, knowing the implications that he didn't need to say as I added, "which means I need to get to the bottom of this soon or he could be the next victim."

"Mind if I collect a sample of your dad's blood so I can run my own analysis on it?" he asked.

"Mind giving me a list of victims so far?" I asked, "I have my own research I want to do. I get the feeling that we're missing a key clue here and I want to see if I can figure out what exactly it is."

"Here," he said, showing me the paper that was in the wallet-like holder, which now showed a list of names.

I looked at him, about to ask him about the paper before he said, "it's called Psychic Paper. It shows what I want it to show."

"I need to get a sheet of that," I stated as I accepted the sheet of paper and took out my laptop and started to type up the list of names as the Doctor took what looked like a syringe from his coat, opening the wrapper.

"Good luck. It's from the future," he stated.

"Which means that you're from the future," I stated with a smirk before adding, "sweet. So what's the culture of future Earth like? Well, assuming that humanity doesn't implode on itself..."

"Amazing, actually," he stated, "but to be fair, I'm more from the far past. My race died out long ago. I'm the last."

"Talk about survivor's guilt," I stated with a frown, "that's gotta be hard."

"You seem to believe me easily," he stated lightly.

"The paper's enough of proof. Doesn't help that I grew up on science fiction. Star Trek and Star Wars mostly. I read more science fiction than I watch it. The real question is why you're so interested in helping us humans, even if it's just a small town comparatively speaking?"

"I've always been fascinated with humanity, even before my race fell. So many things your race have accomplished and so many accomplishments to make."

"And so much suffering inflicted upon itself," I stated with a frown.

"In any given race and culture, there are always unfavorable elements," he stated seriously as he finished taking the sample.

"Sometimes it looks like it's the majority," I said, finishing entering the names.

"Only if you let it color your judgment," he replied.

"Which is easier to do if it's all you experience when dealing with said race or culture," I stated, handing him the paper, seeing him look at me with an expression that told me that he could somehow relate.

"I'll meet you here in the morning and we can discuss what we've discovered," he stated, sounding like he was all business.

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed, packing up my stuff.

"Where are you going?" he asked, seeing me pack up.

"Well, I can't exactly connect to the internet here. Sides, I could use a shower, some rest, and maybe some food that isn't hospital food that's trying to pass itself off as real food," I stated, "I'm not gonna follow you, if that's what you're asking even if you're prolly gonna head off to the future to do your analysis."

"Won't need to. I should be able to do it in my time machine," he stated.

"And judging by how you've verbally avoided the topic of races outside of humanity, it wouldn't surprise me if it's some sort of space ship too," I stated, muttering.

"Clever," he stated with a smirk.

"Some would say too clever," I admitted with a smirk as I put on my hoodie.

"Aren't you going to wear an actual coat?" he asked, almost sounding incredulous.

"I've walked half a mile wearing this in the dead of winter over in Montana. Five blocks is hardly that far," I replied with a shrug as I shouldered on my backpack.

"I feel responsible for you enough to take you home myself so you don't get sick," he stated as I grabbed my laptop case by the handle.

"I can see that arguing against a free ride home is not just pointless but kinda idiotic at this point considering the circumstances," I stated as he led me out of the room and down a corridor.

"And you'll get to see my mode of transportation. I think you'll like her," he stated quickly, almost excitedly.

"I probably will," I replied lightly as we entered the elevator and he pressed the button for the basement.

"She's called a TARDIS. Stands for Time and Relative Dimension In Space. Everyone spends a minute to grasp the whole situation," he stated with a smile, "but that's the fun part."

"Watching mere humans grasp what a time machine is?" I asked as the elevator doors open and following him down a quiet corridor.

"You'll see," he simply said with a grin.

"There's clearly something you're not telling me," I stated with a frown as we stopped at what looked to be a phone booth made almost completely out of wood and painted blue.

"Here she is," he stated with a wide grin.

"She looks like a weird phone booth. Barely big enough to fit maybe two people but only if they're really close friends," I stated with a frown as I saw him unlock the wooden box and fling the double doors open wide enough to show me the huge room inside it.

The room cast light on the two of us as he turned to watch my reaction. He was grinning at me, almost like I was his current source of amusement as I walked up to the doorway and walked in with my hands in front of me, just in case I walked into a wall.

"So it's clearly not a picture," I stated once I reached the end of the ramp and dropping my hands as he closed the doors behind us.

"It's completely real," he stated.

"So it's one of two things," I surmised, "Either this room is a pocket dimension."

"Or?" he asked.

"Or this is a hallucination or dream."

"I think this is the fastest anyone's come to terms with this so far," he stated as he bounded to the console in the center of the room as I set my bags down.

"I know one thing for certain," I stated.

"Which is?"

"She's wonderful," I replied with a grin.

"So tell me where you live and we'll be there in a few seconds," he stated with a smile.

What do you think I did in that moment when the last of some highly advanced culture who apparently perfected not just travel in three dimensions but time as well? I gave him my address.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Planning To Have a Better Plan

I woke up the following morning to the smells of food being cooked. Specifically, I was smelling coffee and bacon as I can hear someone puttering around the kitchen and the sizzling of cooking food which had to be bacon. I had been wearing a worn t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants which had cargo pockets sewn into the legs. It was what I'd always worn to bed during the colder seasons. With a yawn, I crawled out from under the covers, feeling as though my brain was still in the process of booting up and the synapses were still booting up as I walked out of my room, heading in the general direction of the kitchen, expecting to see my dad cooking in the kitchen.

"It can't be the ninth already," I muttered as I was almost to the kitchen, which was obscured from my view by walls.

"It's actually the seventeenth of December," said a voice which I recognized as belonging to the time traveling alien who had introduced himself as the Doctor.

"Why exactly are you cooking breakfast in my kitchen?" I asked, knowing that by asking what he was doing there was one of those questions that had an obvious answer since he was cooking breakfast.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, fueling everyone for the coming day. Did you know that there have been studies that shows that those who don't eat breakfast tend to overcompensate their eating habits?" he replied.

"So you decided to cook breakfast while I was sleeping," I stated, my brain still booting up as I walked around him to grab one of my tall travel cups and filled it with some of the coffee from the coffee maker.

"I could leave if you want me to," he stated.

"Nah. I appreciate it." I stated, grabbing the canister of hot cocoa mix.

"So what did you find out?" he asked, finishing the bacon.

"Something interesting," I replied, dropping several spoonfuls of the mix into my cup of coffee before mixing the contents.

"Which is?" he asked, sounding almost excited.

"Wouldn't you know it, but every person on that list you gave me actually have a few details that they all share. One being that they have at least one child and that they have a common ancestor from around 200 years or so ago. It sounds far too specific for it to be just a random cause. Which clearly means that this is being done by someone who can hide in plain sight," I stated, looking straight at Mr. Alien-Time-Traveler.

"You think it's my doing?" he asked.

"No. If anything, I think it's your turn to talk about what you've figured out from my dad's blood sample," I stated.

"Well..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, looking bothered by something while managing to look reproachful and a little said, frowning at me before breaking eye contact.

"What?" I asked, not liking the reaction he had.

"It definitely looks like someone is messing with human DNA. I don't know who or what yet, but it's clearly someone who doesn't fully understand human DNA. It's like they're treating human DNA like it's some toy," he stated with a frown, sounding annoyed.

"Then we better find out who's doing it and make them reverse the process and then get lost," I stated.

I must have used a tone of voice I didn't catch or I probably revealed just how ticked off I was at that moment. I truly wanted to hunt down whoever it was and... my thoughts ended there. Not because I didn't finish the thought. I stopped the thought because in my mind's eye, I saw something that both scared me and reviled me. I was actually contemplating murdering someone. That made me become scared of myself. When did I start thinking such things?

I took a gulp of the coffee, hoping that the coffee and hot chocolate drink would chase away the bitterness within myself. I glanced up at the only other person in the apartment, seeing the look he was giving me. It was an expression of clear disapproval, almost as if he had been able to look into my own thoughts. Or perhaps, he had felt the same way at one point and he didn't want me to go down that path.

"I'll take care of finding who's behind it and get them to reverse the process for those who are still alive," he stated, "it will get too dangerous for you to be involved any longer."

"My father's life is on the line, Doctor. I'm not going to sit by. Not when I could lose the only family I've ever had in my life," I stated with a frown, perhaps a little too forcefully.

"I understand the feeling, but you can't be involved any longer," he stated with a tone that clearly meant that he wasn't going to budge.

"I have a little something called free will. Ever heard of it?" I asked.

"And I'm not going to let anyone's blood get spilled," he stated with a frown.

"Blood has already been spilled. Worse, it was innocent blood," I stated with a frown, "they've been murdering people for who knows how long. They need to be stopped."

"Violence is never the answer! Even more so, is it never the first answer! There are always other options," he stated, becoming angry at me.

"Violence always starts a chain of violence," I stated, agreeing with his words, "but sometimes to end the chain of violence, violence itself is required."

"Not where I'm concerned," he stated, giving me a glare, making me avert his gaze.

There were times when he would make me feel like a child who had been caught and had been sent to the principal's office. It was exactly how I felt in that one moment. That I was being given the riot act by the principal and I was guilty as sin for something. I almost flinched under his glare.

"Listen," he started, his voice quiet and low, almost sounding guilty, "I've been there. I've killed for the same reason you have for killing those who have been slowly killing your father. You don't want to be there. Trust me on that. You don't want to have that burden."

I looked at him with a frown, seeing his frown deepen. It was probably the look in my eyes that caught him off-guard. "I already have a metric ton of regrets. What's another ton if I can save my dad's life on top of who knows how many lives about to end because of who knows what using humans as lab rats? It's more than just personal revenge. It's about saving lives at this point. Probably my own. Given a decade or two, I could be a victim. If it could be solved with words, that would be nice. But be realistic, Doctor. Would someone who sees humans as lab rats care what you'd tell them? They could be beyond diplomacy. Then what? If simple words don't work, there's only one way to stop them."

"Which is not your choice to make," he stated.

"Consider it self defense then."

"I'm not letting you be involved further in this issue, and that's final," he stated, walking towards the door.

I frowned, downing as much of my drink as I could. I hoped it could push away the mess of emotions I felt. I never was able to do anything when my emotions got the best of me, which meant that they were always bottled up to be released later in a way which didn't involve any explosive methods or nervous breakdowns. Or bloodshed.

I heard the door close quietly as I regarded the food on the kitchen counter. I wasn't hungry anymore. I felt like a weight was breaking my back. Guilt? Sadness? Regret? I don't know. This was a point when I didn't know anything anymore. What I did know was that I wanted to be at the hospital. That I needed to be there. If not to keep my dad company, then to poke at the incident on my own with a stick. If he didn't want me to follow him into what could be a bad situation, then I'd have to get into the mess on my own. I could do that.

It's what I've always done when people push me away. I find ways around being pushed away. I either find my own fun without the person or I found ways of getting the person back in a small way. What better way than to get myself involved on my own. After all, whoever was behind it already involved me long before I'd met the Doctor. They had involved me by targeting my dad. And I knew I had to show them that it had been their one biggest mistake.

Which meant I'd have to get dressed, grab things that I could use and get going.

I almost ran into my bedroom and grabbed a pair of cargo pants that I had managed to find in my size the month before, a green Legend of Zelda t-shirt, and proceeded to dress myself. After that, I pulled my long hair into a ponytail so it could not go into my eyes. Sliding my feet into the sneakers I had lying on the living room floor, I grabbed a banana. Running back into my room, I pocketed an old yo-yo I had lying around, a handful of marbles I had lying around, and my wallet. Feeling like I was prepared to fight a battle on my own, I shrugged into my black trench coat I had lying around.

I was ready.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Hardest Thing To Say Is Goodbye

Once I got inside the hospital, I headed to check on my dad and felt my spirit sink lower. He looked paler than the last time I'd seen him with dark circles around his eyes. I closed my eyes and took steadying breaths. Time was short and I knew that. He was dying and there was only one thing I could do. That one thing was to stop whoever it was and have them reverse the process. I opened my eyes, my resolve strengthened by what I knew I had to do.

I turned to head out of the hospital room and stopped. I heard a familiar voice.

"Lisa," I heard the voice I've heard all my life say, calling out for me.

Turning around, I saw him look tiredly at me. If souls were fragile and one could hear their soul break, I would be hearing mine break at that very moment. And all I did was see him laying in that bed, looking weak and tired. At that very moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to run away. I knew what was coming and I didn't want it. I didn't want this moment to happen.

This moment had been in my nightmares since I was seven. This moment was what I had been doing my best to avoid. This moment was why I had done everything in my power to avoid. This moment was why I had constantly badgered my dad to take his medication. This moment was why I had withdrawn from the world for the longest time. But this moment, and those like it, was a fact of life. This moment and those like it defined life itself. Defined what living was. Defined what it meant to care for others. Defined who I was. And I was scared.

The one thing I'd always feared was this moment.

Because this moment was when things were going to be said. Things about life. Things about family. Things about relatives that are no longer alive. Things about death. And I knew how it was going to end. The way it was going to end was exactly what I was scared of. The way it was going to end was what I had been avoiding and running from for almost my whole life. It was going to end with two sentences shared between us. One sentence was going to be said aloud, spoken to each other. The other was going to remain unsaid even if we both were thinking it at the same time.

I tried to swallow in an attempt to moisten my parched mouth as my stomach flip-flopped like a pancake. My legs wobbled, almost like I was losing the ability to support my own weight. I fought the tears that threatened to rise in my eyes. My jaw was having trouble staying motionless as inside of my own soul, I was torn between running as far as I can as fast as I can and sitting down on that chair that was at my dad's bedside.

I took a step towards the chair, feeling as though my body was now on autopilot. I felt my right foot meet the floor, my knee uncertain if it could even allow me to remain upright or if it was going to have me crumple onto the floor. I knew that if I fell to the floor, I wasn't going to be able to keep my own emotions inside. They were all going to come bubbling out and I was going to be an emotional wreck.

But I remained standing.

My mind dredged up glimpses of my past as I struggled to get somewhere fast. The time that my training wheels on my bike broke and my dad had replaced them with lawnmower wheels, which had been far too big. The time my bike got caught between the sidewalk and the lawn, causing me to fall off at a high enough speed that my entire right palm was skinned. The times I'd play card games with my dad, sharing jokes and funny stories. The time my dad and I had spend a sleepless night playing a single hand of cards until the dawn came. The mornings in High School when he'd have his morning cigarette and I'd have my morning coffee outside and we'd talk about nothing in particular before I'd go to the bus stop to catch the city bus to get to school.

It all came crashing down around me. All at once. Every memory of my dad that I held dear and cherished. Every memory which I'd pull up to cheer myself up when I was sad. Every memory I'd think of and chuckle. Now, they did nothing but accentuate what was going to happen. The memories which had been happy and had cheered me up became memories which were now sad and bittersweet.

All because of this moment which I never wanted to face. The moment which made me wish I could hop on board the Doctor's TARDIS and go somewhere else. All just so I would never have to experience this moment.

But it was happening.

And no matter how much I wished, it was not going to change.

I was there and my father was dying. My father, the man who held me tightly as we both wept after mom walked out on both of us. My father, the one who had always been there for me. My father, who had done everything he could to defend me from my mother's painful words. My father, who had stopped my mother from pulling my hair by pulling hers. My father, who had always understood me even before I was able to speak.

I felt hot tears fall down my cheek as I lifted my left foot to make the next step forward. Time seemed to move slowly, as if someone had hit the big old slow-mo button of the universe. I knew that almost no time had past since my father called for me, but it felt like a lifetime to me. That in this one moment, I could live out my whole life. But it was just a trick of my perception. Time was in fact, moving at it's normal pace.

My left foot landed on the floor and my knees felt like it was buckling under my weight. Was I going to crumple on the floor? I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I couldn't freak out. This was a moment where I would learn how I was going to react to a situation where I was going to say good-bye to someone who I cared about.

I wiped the tears away before I finally sat down on the chair after one more stride thanks to my having long legs due to being pretty tall compared to the rest of my family. I looked over to him, seeing the kind face that I had always had in my life. His eyes still had the same kindness they always had as tiredness and sadness covered his features. For seven years, that sadness had been in his face.

He gave me a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he laid in bed, too weak to sit up.

"I wanted to talk to you before you left again," he stated, his speech slurred, but still clear.

"I'm here, dad," I replied with a smile, "I'm sorry you wanted to talk to me earlier."

"I know that it was the first time you've gone outside of the hospital since I got here," he stated, "you needed a good night's sleep and actual food."

"Yeah," I said, agreeing with him.

Silence stretched on between us. I didn't want to control the conversation and I didn't really want this to happen while he was probably considering how to phrase his half of the conversation.

"I'm sorry," he stated quietly.

"For what? There's nothing to be sorry for," I stated with a smile, "you were always there for me."

"It's just that... I feel that I didn't do as good of a job raising you than I'd wanted. You deserved a better childhood," he stated apologetically.

"You had no control over mom and the others," I stated gently, wanting to console him.

How long had this bothered him? How long had he felt guilt over the rough childhood I had? I never would know.

"My father was the same way," he stated quietly, shattering the silence again, getting me to look at him with a confused expression before he continued, "He would give and give. Everyone would take advantage of his kindness. I got that from him."

I recognized that trait in a hot second. I knew that was a trait I also had. I liked helping people. I liked giving over receiving. It didn't matter if they were friends or family. If they meant anything to me, I would give them the world on a golden platter or die trying.

"Like I got that from you," I stated, seeing the pattern as I nodded at him.

"Just don't fall into the same traps and make the same mistakes. Don't let anyone take advantage of you like what happened to me," he stated with a smile, making it sound like a request.

"I'll work on it. Ya know how I'm like."

"Exactly. You need me to tell you that or you'll never avoid those traps. I know you're smart enough to know. I wasn't."

"I'll do my best, dad," I stated, trying hard not to cry.

"You should leave before it gets too late. There's a storm coming. I don't want you to get snowed in," he stated.

"I'll make sure to leave before the storm hits," I stated.

"I love you, Lisa," he stated with a smile.

"Love you too, Dad," I replied as I watched him fall back asleep.

Once I knew he was asleep, I got up from the chair as tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn't stop the hot tears from flowing as I walked out of the room. I kept my sobs silent as the tears flowed and I realized that I didn't know where exactly to go to get caught by whoever was advanced enough to alter human DNA remotely and to target specific people while they were at it.

But I had an idea. If the Doctor hid the TARDIS in the same location, I could see if I could use its sensors to figure out what to do or where to go. Hopefully without turning up somewhere else at a completely different time. That would be bad and I knew it.

I entered the elevator alone, selecting the basement floor. A few moments later, the door opened and I left the elevator. I tried to recall where the TARDIS had been parked the previous day when I had seen it for the first time when I caught myself from falling flat on my rear due to a cylindrical object which was under my right foot. I lifted said foot and saw something. I didn't know what it was but it looked like it was beyond anything that the modern day was capable of creating. What was it?

I pocketed it just in case and continued to poke around. It was then that I saw a wall ripple like it was a pool of water. Now, I may not know much about advanced technology outside of science fiction, but I did know a thing or two about walls. One of the things I did know about walls was that they weren't supposed to have qualities of water and ripple like that. Which led to my belief that it might not be a wall.

So what do you expect an overly curious girl do when she is trying to get to the one responsible for everything and sees something that should be scientifically impossible?

I stood in front of the wall and poked it. The wall rippled from the contact as my hand went through, obviously telling me that the wall didn't exist. I grinned as I sneaked through the fake wall, doing my best to keep my footfalls silent. I found myself in a dark corridor. Perfect.

What wasn't perfect was the fact that, once I passed the first intersection, I felt a weapon press into my back.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

A Matter of Revenge

I noticed that they paid me not that much attention once they determined that I lacked weapons, allowing me to do something that smart people would never let me do. I ate my banana. I was most of the way done with eating my banana when my captors led me to what I believed was a lab. Buckled into a table of some sort was the Doctor, who glared at me once he saw me.

"I told you not to follow me," he snapped.

"Hey, I didn't follow you here," I stated with a frown as I finished my banana.

And this is why no one should ever let me eat a banana while they want to keep me captured. I used the length of my coat to my advantage, letting it obscure the banana peel as it fell to the floor. The one behind me slipped and I spun around, seeing that they had dropped their weapon and I grabbed it and pointed it at its head, seeing that it was an alien.

The alien was clearly alien. It wasn't exactly the stuff of nightmares, but it certainly didn't look like a green-skinned human. It looked vaguely humanoid, but was clearly not humanoid. Its facial muscles made it look like it was a failed experiment in trying to get a robot to emote like humans. If I had to say what it looked like in terms of my thinking, I'd be comparing it to somewhere between Bowser from Mario, Orochimaru from Naruto, and Voldemort from the later books of Harry Potter. But with short fur and reptile tails. There was nothing about them that scared me.

"Shouldn't have let me eat my banana," I told the alien with a frown as my anger and rage and wrath bubbled up to the surface and I shot the alien's shoulder, making it cry out in pain.

"Stop that!" the Doctor shouted.

"Tell me everything I want to know," I said to the alien as I glared down at it, "let's start with what you expect to accomplish using humans as lab rats."

"We are expecting to use your race as a means of expanding our empire by turning every member of your race into our race," the alien said.

"Ya wanna know something? That's not gonna fly and this is why: I'm gonna stop ya. Singlehanded if need be. You took my only family from me. The only family I truly had in my life. Gone now. You shoulda realized how tight-knit family groups are and how vengeful the human race can be when you push us into a corner. Because here I am. I've got no qualms killing every last one of you all cause you killed my father," I stated with a frown.

"Please don't kill me! Mercy!"

"Mercy? Mercy?!" I spat in fury before calming down, if not in my expression, then in my tone and volume. At least my voice was calmer before I continued, asking, "Where was mercy when you were the ones doing all the killing? Where was your mercy when I watched as what you did caused my father to wither away and die? Where was your mercy as what you did destroyed not just my family but countless other families? You have no mercy. Thus you don't deserve to beg for it, nor do you expect to find any from me."

It was then that I closed my eyes. I knew that the weapon was pressed against the alien's skull. In a split second, I felt that I had come back into my right mind. I hesitated and pondered whether this was really the right thing to do. I was scared if I was doing something I'd regret. That what I'd do next would scar me in some profound way and that I would never be able to take it back or redeem myself if I were to take a life. As I was about to pull back, my wrath and anger returned, reminding me that there was no other choice. They had to be stopped and the only way I knew was through brute force. If not to avenge my father's death but to prevent the deaths which would follow if I failed to stop them.

I squeezed the trigger as if it was a stress toy. I felt the weapon shake my hand in recoil moments before the deafening sound of the blast of air expanding. Then came the one sound that caused me to feel my very soul shatter. The sound of the last, rattling breath of someone who had just died. I opened my eyes, staring at the body. I etched the gruesome scene into my memory. If this was to be a regret, I wanted this to be what my nightmares were made of. I wanted this to haunt me for the rest of my life. I wanted to be reminded of just what kind of person I now was.

I wanted to remind myself in my nightmares that I was the kind of person who will kill if pushed into a corner. That I was the kind of person who will kill for revenge. That if someone messed with or harmed anyone I cared about, I will kill the guilty party.

But the real question wasn't over the kind of person I had become. The real question was the one that echoed through my very being. Was it worth it? Did that do anything to improve my life in any way? I didn't want to deal with it at the time. I pressed all of the confusion, all of the emotion I felt back into the inner bottle I kept everything that bothered me while I was around others. It was ingrained into my psyche to keep my emotions, especially the troubling ones, deep down and away from my face.

"There was no reason for you to kill him!" the Doctor exclaimed, sounding quite irate as I turned to face him.

"I have plenty of reason," I said with a frown as I walked toward where he was captured, "so how do I get you outta this?"

"If I had my Sonic Screwdriver, I could use that to get the latches to release," he stated.

"Would this help?" I asked, lifting up the object I found literally right before I had noticed the wall.

"Immensely," he stated right before I placed it in his hands.

I heard it buzz in a high pitch moments before the straps loosened, allowing him to get free. I turned around, seeing that there had been a scientist cowering behind a panel and I strode to the scientist, glaring at the cowering alien.

"I suppose you're one of the ones who done the alterations responsible for the death of countless people," I stated with a frown, almost spitting the sentence out of my mouth as if it was so bitter I couldn't keep it in as I aimed the weapon at him.

"This isn't worth it," the Doctor said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "revenge is never worth it."

"Stopping them is worth it," I stated, "and that's what I'm doing."

"What you're doing is murder!" he exclaimed, turning me around to face him, "you don't want to do this and I'll tell you why. One morning, you will wake up and you will remember that you became a monster on this day. You will regret it and you will realize that you can't live with yourself. Can you live with that?"

"If my actions saved more lives than the amount I'd take today, then yes," I stated, "I'm saving lives here."

"At least let me try to resolve this peacefully," he stated.

"If you think they can be reasoned with," I stated with a sigh, "but if they attack us while you're talking, I will shoot them."

"I don't like it," he stated with a frown.

"You don't like the idea that I'm prepared to defend ourselves?"

"Not with a weapon."

"Deal with it."

He walked over to the cowering wreck of an alien scientist and crouched down low to speak to it, saying, "I want to speak to your leader."

"We can communicate with her through the comms system," the alien replied, realizing that the one he was talking to the one who had kept me from killing him and ran to a console and started pressing buttons.

"Yes, Medic Kinoren?" came a voice from what looked to be a hologram of a female alien who had apparently noticed that the Doctor and I were free and that I was armed and asked, "and who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor and this is Miss Malcolm," the Doctor stated, calling me by my father's last name, "and we want you to stop your experiments that are killing humans."

"And if I don't?" she asked.

"Then I will hunt each of you down one by one. Or maybe I will start messing with your technology. I'm sure that there are a few things that I can do that will scare you. Maybe set your energy source to overload. Or maybe hack into your navigational computers and plot an unalterable course for the local star. Or maybe-"

"The point is, she is unstable from the loss of her only parent at your hands. She's barely within my control," the Doctor stated, "if you don't leave peacefully, I'll lose all control of her and who knows what one very unstable and highly intelligent human can do to your ship, let alone your fleet."

"We will leave the solar system once you leave my ship," the woman stated with a frown.

"And about those who are dying from your genetic experiments?" I asked.

"We will let out the code to reverse the changes, but there will be those who are too far gone to be saved," she stated.

"That's not good enough!" I shouted before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"We will leave in peace," the Doctor said, "you have my word."

The hologram disappeared and the Doctor turned to me, saying, "you're going to have to leave that weapon."

I nodded, setting it down on the console moments before the Doctor started walking out and I quietly followed him. There was nothing to be said as I felt overwhelmed. So much had happened and so quickly. As I found myself back in the hospital, I couldn't hold everything in and tears started to fall. Before I knew it, I was caught in a hug.

"Your father may not be too far gone," he stated calmly.

"Sorry," I stated, almost sobbing out the word.

"For?" he asked, sounding curious.

"Breaking down like this," I replied.

"You've had a rough time," he said simply.

"Yeah, I have."

"And anyone who has gone through what you did probably would have reacted the same," he said, "so how about we head to your father's hospital room?"

"Yeah," I agreed as he let go of me and we started walking.

"So is this what you consider normal?" I asked him once we reached the elevators.

"Usually, there's a lot more running and I get shot at a lot more. But yeah, pretty much normal for me," he stated, "it's fun."

"I think you deserve an apology," I stated quietly, "I dunno what came over me. I just...snapped... I haven't had any violent tendencies since I was twelve."

"You cared about your family and you acted in defense of it," he stated calmly, "but I'm not the one you should apologize to. The one you killed had family too."

"I don't think they'd see it the same way I do. That they...were doing the same to me," I stated, "but two wrongs don't make a right as my grandma used to say. Same with 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'. No, wait. That's my stepmom."

"You should listen to them," he stated as we walked out of the elevator, "they sound like pieces of good advice."

"Let's just keep it between us," I stated as we approached where my father's room was.

I looked into the room, seeing that it was empty. There was no bed, not even the belongings that belonged to my dad. It was all empty as if he was moved to another room or was released. A nagging feeling itched at me like I knew that he was dead but I wanted to believe that he was still alive. I wanted to believe that he was getting better.

"Excuse me," I said, grabbing a nurse.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I'm trying to find my dad. This was his room," I told her.

It was then that I heard the words I never wanted to hear. The same words I knew were coming, but I had wanted to think that he was fine. I wanted to believe that he was fine. I wanted to feel like I had accomplished something that day.

"I'm sorry, but Derrick Malcolm passed away almost forty-five minutes ago," the nurse said, trying to be gentle about it, "I can lead you to a private room so you can contact the rest of your family."

"Thank you," I said, holding back the tsunami of emotions I felt was about to toss me around.

The Doctor and I followed along in silence as we were led to a small room with couches lining three of the four walls and the nurse left. The moment I heard the door close, I let out all of my emotions.

I wailed. I sobbed. I threw things. Given that the only thing I managed to grab was a box of tissues, not much damage had been done. And all through that, he had been silent, if not apologetic.

"I'm sorry," he stated apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," I said with a sniffle and maybe a small sob, "If it wasn't for you, more people would die."

Silence stretched out as I swallowed my tears and forced myself to calm down. Or at least give the appearance of being calm and collected even though I knew that I definitely didn't feel either calm or collected. I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and turned it on, selecting Pam from my contact list.

Pam was my younger stepsister who was only two years younger than I am and had already taken a wrecking ball to her life, turning herself into a burden on society who produced offspring like she was mass-producing children. I'd sent the message to her solely because I knew that she was the family gossip as far as that side of the family went.

If I needed to have my whole step family know something, I knew that all I'd have to do is tell her. Within an hour, everyone would know. And I do mean everyone. Through her and her curse of gab, everyone would know. So I quickly typed up the message through the keypad- "Dad died. Am in room 615 waiting for everyone. Pass it on."

I let out a sigh as the phone beeped, telling me that the message had been sent. I knew that it was going to be hard. Not just seeing everyone my father had collected over the years, but seeing everyone crying over him. Something told me that I wouldn't have anyone to cry over me. Not after what happened that day. I knew that what I had done was wrong and I would never repay yet another black mark on my very soul. I already knew that my karma account had filed for bankruptcy by the time I was ten.

And then I had a scary thought. Apparently, the Doctor noticed the change in my expression and looked at me.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I...it's nothing," I replied, not wanting to reveal my fears to someone I barely even knew.

He gave me a look that seemed to be equal parts intimidating, worried, and almost apprehensive. I didn't know how to react to that look. I wanted to back away and somehow try to reassure this alien time-traveler person that I was definitely not going to become some monster in the future. But in that moment, I knew that such a reassurance would be a lie. And I didn't do outward lying outside hiding my feelings.

"It's just that..." I said, trailing off as I tried to find my train of thought, looking away from his glance before continuing, "this isn't the first time I've done horrible things. Definitely wins the golden crown...but I've done...things. What bothers me most is that...the realization that any karma I have has fallen into the far negatives...and a part of me wondered... what's the point of...well...caring..."

"The point of caring is knowing that you're still human," he stated calmly, "without the capacity to care for others, you wouldn't be human any more. As long as there's even a sliver of humanity left, you would be able to care and you wouldn't be a monster or a killer. Because it scares you, it means that you still are human where it counts."

"I hope you're right," I stated quietly, looking down at the floor as I heard the door open.

"Melissa, like...are you okay?" I heard Pam ask in her annoying Valley Girl voice that has always driven me up the wall.

"Just peachy, Pam," I replied quietly.

"Well, I'll be off," I heard the Doctor say before he left, leaving me to be with the now-broken family I now had.

The now, four of us sat on the couches, reminiscing and I found myself wishing that I was only six months older so that way, I had something to numb my pain. Anything to just make it all go away. My stepmom found another way to deal with the pain by telling funny stories.

"And then she dropped the chicken nugget right at my feet!" said stepmom said with a grin as she finished her story, causing all of us to laugh.

"I bet he wanted to skin her alive for tattling!" I exclaimed, trying hard not to laugh too hard when the door opened.

"The room is ready," the nurse said, noticing that she had a whole room full of people look at her, the room having fallen into silence once she was seen.

Everyone slowly got up from where they were sitting. Some downed what was left of their water, tea, or coffee. Others just didn't want to lead the way. I just wasn't in a hurry. But I had been sitting at the couch closest to the door. That meant that I was the first one to leave the sitting room and the first to enter the prepared room to say good-bye.

He looked peaceful as he laid there. I almost caught myself thinking that he was just deeply sleeping. I was able to put on a stoic face as I saw my father, laying in the bed, cold as the grave. It didn't last.

"Why's grampa sleeping?" I heard my three-year-old nephew by way of my younger stepsister.

"He's not sleeping," I heard Pam tell her son, a good kid she had named Jacob.

"But if he's not sleeping..." Jacob trailed off, sniffling as his voice wavered.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Pam said, giving Jacob a hug right as Jacob wailed.

It was then that my stoic act broke and my tears fell. All I could think at that moment was that I would see him again in the future, once I too, would become as cold as the grave. I turned away from the bed, being unable to take much more of seeing my dad's cold body. I was the first one to leave.

"Where are you going?" my stepmom, Abigail asked me as I grabbed my coat from the sitting room.

"The apartment. I know I'm not going to be able to afford it after this month. I'll have to find a new place. But for now...I want to leave before the storm comes in," I stated quietly.

"We'll help you pack once the storm passes."

I nodded as I walked away, not having any words that I felt that needed to be said. I felt that I had nothing I wanted to say. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically tired. I felt like I was put through the wringer and I lacked the strength to even feel anything anymore.

Once I left the hospital, a strong bitter wind bit through my trench coat. It was that moment that it all came crashing down as I walked. I was alone now. I had no real family. I had no one to be around me, not like my dad was. My friends had their own lives and I couldn't encroach upon their lives. I didn't want to burden them with my presence.

It was that time that I heard the sound. I was two blocks from the hospital when the sound that was a grinding-like noise came to my ears as large snowflakes started to fall and a familiar person walked into the street lights in the twilight of a dying day. The light made him look almost like a ghost as I approached him. He seemed almost different from the last time I had seen him, which weren't even six hours ago, more like two, really.

"I just thought that you could use a ride home before the storm hit," he stated with a friendly smile that didn't cover the sadness in his eyes.

"I think I could use a ride home," I agreed as I followed him to the TARDIS.

Silence stretched on as we entered the ship and I closed the door behind me as he, almost energetically, walked around the circular-ish console, pressing buttons, twisting things, pulling levers, and hitting what I'd have to think of as a stubborn part with a rubber mallet.

"Here you go," he said with a smile.

"Think we'll see each other in the future?" I asked, somewhat curious.

"If we do, I'll be different then," he replied.

"Everyone changes," I replied with a frown.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"To be honest, I don't know," I stated as I left the ship, finding myself across the street from the apartment complex.

The moment I closed the door behind myself, I could hear the TARDIS preparing leave. A strong wind hit me as I turned around, seeing that the blue box was gone. It was that moment, as the snow fell and it all came crashing down that my life had changed irrevocably, I knew that things will be just fine. I was going to be fine. For the first time in two weeks, I smiled to myself.

I now only had myself. It was all on me. Whether I would do something or not do something. Whether I had breakfast for lunch or leftovers for breakfast. Whether I would drink milk straight from the carton. It was all on my shoulders. It was both frightening and exciting. For the first time, I would be depending and relying entirely on myself. And I was going to make sure that each day was going to be an adventure.

I owed it to myself to live life like it was the greatest adventure there is. Because I only had one life and I wasn't going to let it pass me by. Not now. Not if I had a say in it. And since I was now on my own, I definitely had a say in it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

A Not-So Normal Morning

Sunlight filtered into my room as I stared up at my ceiling, which looked like whoever painted the walls and ceiling had flung white paint at the walls and ceiling. All the walls and ceiling in my apartment looked like that, making me remember the house I had grown up in before it had been taken away from my dad and I by my egg cell donor by way of a divorce that could've been messier if I had been younger. I had seen how it had been done...how the painters had flung the white paint at the walls and ceiling to cause the random splatters. They had used a machine, as I recalled watching the remodel of the house being done. Well, before I was pushed into the backyard where the children of the other volunteers played.

I sighed, unable to push back the memory. It was almost as if I was living that moment in my life again, only experiencing life as I knew it when I was three years old. The first time I had ever been excluded. The first time I had been attacked by other children just because I didn't fit their mold. A cold chill ran down my spine as my perception seemed split- half of me was remembering the event while half of me was actually living it. Just what was going on?

I walked over to the small playhouse that was attached to the shed in the backyard. It was the one thing I was most excited about. The door was closed and I could hear the sounds of girls telling jokes and playing games. Oh, how I wanted to join them. I wanted to play with them and have fun. I never got to hang out with other girls around my age before. This was a new experience and I was excited. I pondered what kind of games they played. Did they even play any games I knew? I knew that I was happy to be able to play with others my age, grinning widely.

And so I knocked.

The door opened suddenly and I saw the group of four girls stare at me from the playhouse. They looked at me as if I had failed them before they suddenly closed the door. I knocked again.

"Go away!" they shouted.

"This is mine," I stated, not angry, but sad.

"Not care," the response came, "go away."

"This is mine," I insisted, now getting annoyed.

"You're not pretty enough. Go away."

"This is mine!" I shouted, now hurt and angry.

"You're fat! Go away before I tell!" the leader exclaimed before they started chanting.

"Fatty, go away! Fatty, you're ugly! Fatty, go away and take your ugly face with you!" they chanted.

Tears welled in my face. They kicked me out of my own playhouse and took over it. They weren't sharing. They hated me and...for what reason? Because of my outward appearance. The world felt colder. This wasn't what Sesame Street or Barney showed people being. People were supposed to be nice and share! I just wanted to play with them. As they continued repeating their chant and laughing at me, I got fed up and cried as I ran toward the house, looking for the closest adult.

I ran into a pair of legs and held onto them, the legs seeming almost like trees. Almost like a giant's legs. Those, I knew, were the legs of an adult. And I sobbed into them, tightening my little arms around them. A hand gently stroked my hair, trying to calm me down before the mysterious adult talked to me.

"It's going to be okay, Lisa," he said in an accent I couldn't place at the time, using the shortened version of my name that I called myself, but how did he know? He continued in his calm and gentle voice, saying, "tell me what happened."

"Girls...at my playhouse...not letting me play with them...they called me fat and...and...ugly," I had sobbed.

"Well, that's not nice," he stated gently, "forget them. Let the meanies have their own fun."

It was then that he got me disentangled from his legs and bent down so he could look at me in the eye and I saw that he had green eyes. I'd never seen green eyes before or since at that point. His eyes held kindness as he looked almost sternly at me, like he had an important message for me as he smiled at me, his hands holding my shoulders gently. I remember seeing his blue tie before I looked back at his face.

"I want you to listen to me because this is a very important thing I wanted to tell you," he stated quietly before continuing, "don't you ever, ever let what other people say ever change how you see yourself."

It was then that he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the backyard, within sight of the playhouse's one window. We started playing games together. We played tag. We played hide-and-seek. And I started to laugh. And I saw that the girls were jealous that I was having more fun than they were.

The girls emerged from the playhouse, looking at the scene. Some were still in the playhouse, watching what was going to go down. They didn't look shy, but acted like they owned everything. They almost glared at me, as if having more fun than they did was illegal or something. The leader approached me, glaring at me almost in anger. I didn't care. If she was going to start something, she was going to get in trouble.

"We will play with you," she said, as if she had just made it so.

"Nope. You were meanies to me and I don't play with meanies," I stated calmly.

"We will play with you," she repeated, her voice more forceful.

"I will not play with you," I replied calmly.

It was then that she walked up to me, obviously a few years older. She glared down at me.

"We will play with you," she repeated a third time.

"You're a meanie," I stated.

And then it happened. It was so fast. One moment, I had been standing. Next moment, I was on the ground on my rump. Pain blossomed right where my right eye was. My hand went up to my right eye. I didn't know what happened. And then the tsunami of pain hit me and I screamed in agony. My eye hurt a lot.

I was barely aware of being picked up and carried away from the girls. I was too focused on the pain and screaming to pay attention to what was going on now.

"What happened?" I heard my father command from the one who carried me.

"One of the girls hit her when she told them that she didn't want to play with them," the one who had played with me said, "the one with the blonde pigtails."

I was barely aware of being passed to my dad as he hugged me and rubbed my back.

"Thank you, Mister-" my dad trailed off.

"Smith. John Smith," the man replied.

I found myself back in my bed, twenty-one years later. The guy called himself John Smith and hadn't been in my memories earlier. Which meant, he wasn't originally there. I knew only one time traveler who used that name as a cover. I sighed, partially amused, partially annoyed, and partially...feeling warm fuzzies. He had gone into my personal past and tried to change it into something better. Why? All I knew was that the next time I see him, which I knew was going to happen sooner or later, I was going to ask him that exact question.

And I stopped. He was probably the only one with the power and ability to change time. He could erase whole civilizations from time. Or people. He could do some horrendous things with that power and no one could stop him. I was lucky. Somehow, he had no ill will against me and obviously wanted to help me. I saw how kind he truly was and knew that it was a good thing that the one who had such great power over things had a kind heart. But I also knew that there was always a limit to both kindness and patience. I didn't want to imagine what kind of person he'd be if both his kindness and patience ran out. That was the most terrifying thought I ever had about the one who called himself the Doctor.

It was that point in time that my alarm clock went off. Apparently, it decided that it was time for me to get ready for another day of classes. Groaning, I got up out of my bed, noticing just how unusual my day had become ad I'd only been awake for maybe a half an hour at most. Already, two abnormally strange things had happened. The first was that my personal past had been altered by an alien time traveler who was crazy old and had the ability to change his appearance drastically. The second was that I woke up on my own without the assistance of caffeine or the sudden urge to commit murder or a panic attack. The second was a good thing and was the more abnormal of the two, garnering more of my attention than the fact that the Doctor was tinkering with my personal past.

I quickly decided that I was definitely going to class after having second thoughts. Around that time, I decided on the outfit I was going to wear. Luckily, it was mostly suited to the cooling fall weather.

I walked over to my dresser and opened the bottom-most drawer, finding pairs of cargo pants that I had been fortunate to find in my size. Some were a light shade of tan, some were a dark brown, and others were a deep forest green. Grabbing the deep forest green cargo pants, I slid them on. Closing the drawer with a foot, I slid out of the worn t-shirt I had worn to bed and opened the top most drawer, pulling out a bra. I put it on without issue, clasping it behind my back which was a skill I had ensured I had only because I didn't want to develop rashes by way of fabric burns.

Quickly closing the top most drawer, I opened the middle drawer, grabbing a silk button-up blouse. It was a deep orange and was my favorite. It fit me well, which was interesting since it was in the pile of clothes I'd inherited from my paternal grandmother. Apparently, we were around the same size. Once buttoned, I smiled at the pile of things on top of the wooden dresser.

On top of the pile was a leather belt that had a pouch and I snapped the leather belt around my waist, keeping the loose cargo pants in place. Then came the vest that I always wore with this outfit, a pale blue to accentuate the orange and green of my outfit. I smiled at the jewelry that formed the rest of the pile. There was a pendant and matching earrings that were fleurs de lis, almost made out of purple rhinestones or something jewel-like. Then there was the dogtag I always liked to wear that had an image familiar to me etched into it: a skull wearing a pair of goggles with a cutlass crossing a propeller. Then was the last necklace- a pendant in the shape of a large Victorian key with a pair of bird-like wings coming from it. I smirked to myself as I entered the bathroom.

I saw myself in the mirror and smirked at my reflection. Round-ish face, widows peak, hair that would never behave even if I subjected to mousse and gel that looked a shade away from hot chocolate, matching eyes, a broad nose that I felt took far too much of my face than necessary, the small chin, a just big enough mouth. Pretty average, actually, even with my annoying nose taking too much room. I pulled my hair into a tight bun, as tight as I could, trying to turn the bun into just a ball of hair. I then grabbed my favorite thing I loved putting in my hair, if only because I had worked on it off and on for six whole months.

It was once just piles of raw, colored yarn that I separated into strands of varying lengths and widths, twisted to look almost like dyed and dreaded hair. It was all kept together by a hair tie, something that was almost a rubber band in appearance, but matched my hair color. The dreaded yarn were in four colors- a light auburn, forest green, light brown, and chocolate brown. The band held the yarn in place and just to make it look more like a ponytail, I wrapped the area with a length of fabric which I tied into a nice bow. I smirked again, assessing the look. It wasn't every day I had the urge to dress up in my most flattering and impressive outfit. I didn't care what most people thought. Even if I did care, they mostly told me that I looked awesome anyways.

I slid on a cap that was a deep green and looked like it was made by patching together green denim. I liked the hat. On the brim, I rested my pair of goggles which had dark lenses so I could use them as epic sunglasses. Then came the brown leather boots. They were thick enough both on the calf and on the top of the boot itself to allow me to actually fit into them. Curse my thick feet. It makes finding a good pair of boots into a literal Easter Egg Hunt. Except that they were boots and the hunt wasn't localized to a park or yard. Okay, that metaphor sucks.

Anyhow, I glanced at the clock. I needed to bolt soon. I slid into a brown longcoat that I had a friend sew together for me. Deep brown on the outside, emerald green silk on the inside. Kept me warm just fine in the winter, and just cool enough to wear on summer mornings. I grabbed my messenger bag and ran to the fridge to grab my bag lunch.

The college cafeteria had a habit of overcharging everything. That which wasn't overcharged was deep fried and shouldn't find its way into my stomach. Not if I don't want an attack. I frowned at the recent memory of the pain. I thought I was going to die and if I wasn't going to die in that moment, then I wanted to die. I sighed and left the apartment behind, locking the door behind myself.

"Good morning!" I heard a voice exclaim behind me, making me jump.

My heart raced. All I could think of was that I was minutes away from another type of attack. I started to unlock the door, ready to hide in my apartment when I stopped. The voice was different. It still belonged to the opposite gender, yes, but it wasn't the voice I had learned to fear. The accent was all wrong. Wait. Accent. Important clue. Accent as in not from the same continent. Good. That was good. Maybe. How many British people did I know anyways? I paused. Did I want to stop unlocking my door now that I had a good inkling of who it was?

"Come along, Olmstead or we'll miss the bus and we don't want that, do we?" he asked, sounding amused and maybe a little condescending.

I turned around. I didn't need to. I already knew who it was. The recent happenings to my own memories had been enough of a clue that he was going to be around. I went back to locking my door with a sigh. I was going to have to have a bit of a chat with him. Especially concerning tinkering with my own past and sneaking up on me. And he just looked at me with a wide grin that was part amusement, part almost childlike excitement, and part humor. All it did was make him look almost like he was both incredibly ancient and somehow not. It was weird.

"Right," I said in a non-committal way, walking the path I had walked down several times to the city bus, except that this time, I wasn't alone.

"What's got you all...emotional this morning?" he asked, pausing to find 'emotional', obviously deciding that it was the least offensive word he could use.

"I know you messed with my past," I muttered sourly.

"Don't tell me anything more," he snapped, "I haven't done it yet."

"Right. Don't need to know more than the vague stuff," I added sourly.

"And what's wrong?" he asked, "was it a good or bad alteration?"

"Considering that the original way it went down involved me just walking away, playing with a stuffed toy and your alteration ended with my getting a black eye..."

He frowned, almost flinching, "sorry."

"Why would you even need to change such a small part of my history anyways?"

"Now? Because you told me I would."

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, so happy with the prospect that I forgot to smile and decided to frown instead.

"That's the rules."

"Whose rules?"

"Mine."

"Then change them."

"It's now a fixed point. It has to happen or either time collapses completely or creatures from beyond time and space will appear and try to clean the wound in time itself, which will kill everyone on the face of the planet."

"You're kidding me."

"Time travel is no joking matter," he stated calmly, "it's all full of bunches and bunches of rules to make sure that the universe keeps chugging along."

"So I see that you weren't kidding about the whole looking different thing," I stated lightly after a long pause.

"It happens," he stated, "typically when I die, but yeah."

"So is it just a new coat of paint or everything's new even the personality?"

"Closer to the coat of paint analogy. Mostly. Actually, forget it. It's nothing like that."

"So why exactly are you here, pestering me?" I asked.

"I'm pestering you?" he asked, sounding almost pathetic.

"I meant it in the whole you're here and visiting with me thing. I mean, I doubt I'm all that important for you, Mr. Alien-Time-Traveler-Guy to be troubling you-"

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, turning furious as he interrupted me, rounding on me with a glare that made me almost back off, "why said that you aren't important?!"

"I refuse to have an overly large ego to think that I'm important to anything or anyone!" I exclaimed, glaring back at him, "call it modesty, humility, or what. But I refuse to acknowledge that I'm so uber-important that it causes you to drop by to just say hi for the first time in almost five years!"

"I did drop by to say hi!" he exclaimed, "and to investigate the college that you just happen to attend."

"Ha! Told ya!" I exclaimed.

"And what happened to your hair?" he asked, probably talking about the dreaded yarn.

"It's called 'dreadfalls'. Mine are just made by dreading yarn," I stated.

"Looks really..." he said, trailing off to find the perfect word as we continued walking.

"Cool?"

"No."

"Awesome?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Looking for the word. Shut up," he stated before I hit the back of his head, not going for painful, just to startle him, getting him to react. "Ow! What's that for?"

"You were being rude to me," I stated indignantly, "sides, shouldn't have hurt you that bad."

"Sorry," he stated quietly, carrying on like a kid who'd just been given the riot act.

"It's all cool," I replied with a smile.

"So what did you find out? With the college?" he asked.

"A lot of weird things. I keep walking into dead ends without answers," I replied as we stopped at the bus stop sign.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that...there are a lot of mysterious deaths. Highest suicide rate in the state. That alone...yeah...creeps me out," I stated.

"I know that much," he stated.

"I knew one of the...victims," I stated quietly.

"Friend of yours?"

"He wished," I responded quietly, "two days before he died, he stopped trying to make passes at me. His suicide note blamed me for his death."

"Whoa-ho-ho! You caused a guy to kill themselves because you rejected him! That's a new low!" he exclaimed, causing me to glower at him.

"Do you think I enjoyed knowing that it is always my fault when someone around me dies!" I snapped at him, glaring at him, almost screaming.

"I didn't know it bothered you like that," he said quietly, obviously sobering up.

"Right now, it's like I'm the center of some storm. Anywhere near me is-"

"Don't you dare say it because that's my whole entire life!" he exclaimed.

"Oh like I have no control over the fact that within five years, I've lost everything I ever cared about or held dear and it's all entirely. My. Fault?!"

"If I wasn't there-"

"I'd still blame myself!" I exclaimed, "he wasn't strong enough to last until the reversal...thing...happened! Because I didn't do a good enough job at keeping him as healthy as possible!"

"Like you can control when or how people die?!" he exclaimed before catching what he said and looked away.

"Listen," I said as I saw the bus approach, "if you want to get to the bottom of it, don't expect me to help ya. I don't want my bad luck rub off on you."

"If anything, it's been my bad luck rubbing off on you."

"Sides, I can't keep up the investigation. Not for a week at least," I stated quietly.

"Why's that?" he asked as I got on the bus and ran my bus pass through the card reader, getting a beep.

"Last thing I need is someone like you worrying about me," I stated with a frown.

"You think I'll be worried for you?"

"I don't want to imagine the kind of mother hen you could be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It's just a girl thing," I stated, trying to get out of explaining things to him.

He didn't seem like the kind who would take it lightly that I was going to be on the mend for a little while. And I was in no way, going to be running into a dangerous situation when I should be focused on healing. Sides, I knew how protective he could be. Any protective instincts he'd have would kick into overdrive, especially if he knew. Which was why I was in no way, shape, or form, going to let him in on my secret. That could be something utterly terrifying. Especially if he had altered my past and tried to make it better. Least, that was what I'd thought.

Now, I wasn't all that sure about the Doctor. It was clear that he wasn't the same, but neither was I. I had changed too, maybe not in the obvious way he had.

I looked out of the window on the bus as I was peripherally aware that he was sitting behind me. He thought I enjoyed death. A shiver ran down my body as I closed my eyes. In the end, I'd paid for it. For everything horrible I've done, I finally faced the one thing that was more than seven times worse than everything I've ever done, including the deaths on my hands. And still, it seemed that karma wasn't yet happy with the arrangement. Even after losing every friend I held dear, my innocence, my family, and what dignity I had left.

I was only peripherally aware of him moving to sit next to me and giving me a hug. Why?

"Is everything okay?" he asked quietly.

"Depends," I replied quietly as he let me go.

"Depends on what?"

"Your definition of 'okay'."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Poking With A Ten Foot Pole

I poked at my lunch that day (which consisted of a plain salad with only lettuce, tomato, spinach, carrots, and radishes), deciding to wait until noon in the library before heading to my afternoon class. I was doing most of the poking at my food with my right hand as my left was reading a tech magazine. I was reading an interesting article about how scientists have discovered that the universe has just about finished creating stars when I saw something in the corner of my eyes. I was pretty sure I made out a red bowtie.

"Oooh. Interesting. 95% of stars the universe can create has already been created," he stated, almost eagerly, "each day, another discovery to be made by the human race."

"Is there a reason that you're reading the magazine over my shoulder?" I asked, not looking up from the magazine or my food.

"I've been trying to get your attention and I don't think you noticed," he stated.

"I was trying hard not to. So what's up?"

"The direction opposite of down. I thought you of al-" he said, stopping once he saw the glare I lowered at him before saying, "right. You probably meant what I'm doing, trying to get your attention. Right. So, I think I found the whole nest of 'em. And guess where it is?"

"It's somewhere in the basement of the music building," I stated in a deadpan.

"Right. The music building. But there's nothing wrong with the ground floor or the second-"

"Basement."

"And you get on my case for being rude. Now let me finish talking," he stated, almost snappishly, clearly not noticing that I had told him where it was.

"As I was saying, there's nothing wrong with the ground floor or the second floor which mean that—wait. Basement? The music building has a basement?"

"Took you long enough. Yes, there's a basement. Full of practice rooms," I stated, "and generally open to any students who needs to use the rooms to practice. No one patrols the rooms and if anyone did...well, it would be very boring. It's almost always empty down there."

"Sounds like it's time to go down there and investigate," he stated with a smirk, giving me a glance.

"I made sure all of the walls were solid. No dice," I stated with a frown.

"But I have something you don't have."

"What's that?"

"A Sonic Screwdriver," he stated with a smile.

I let out a sigh and put my lunch up and set the magazine down on a table, getting a look from him.

"What?"

"You were saying that you weren't going to back me up," he stated.

"And I'm female. We change our minds a lot," I stated with a frown as I got up, slinging my messenger bag onto my shoulder.

I blinked, feeling the whole world turn under my feet like I was on one of those carnival rides at the fair. I blinked it all away as my eyes temporarily freaked out. I let out a sigh, seeing his worried expression as he looked at me and pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver and waved it over me.

"Scanning me?" I asked.

"There's something wrong with you," he stated.

"There isn't and if there was, I probably know and don't want to share it with the world," I stated, trying to get him to stop.

"But you wouldn't be sharing it with the world."

"Point is that if there's anything wrong, I know about it and only want those of my choosing to know," I stated.

"Interesting," he stated, having ended the scan and looked at the device he held up to his eyes, "there's a good amount of...narcotics? In your system? And there seems to be something wrong with an organ..."

"Just shut up and let's go before you manage to scan me within an inch of my life," I almost snipped.

"There's something wrong. Something's wrong with you and you're trying to hide it. Is it an addiction?" he asked, "I'm sure I can help you-"

"The narcotic is my prescription pain killer," I stated quietly, "and there's nothing life-threatening wrong with me so drop it."

"But there's something wrong with you."

"Yes. Something that tends to crop up in humans and is completely normal," I stated.

"Then what is it?"

I sighed and looked around the library. No one was paying us any mind as I sighed again and walked towards the music building with him hot on my tail.

"Tell me," he stated, "you can trust me."

"Last thing I need is some alien time traveler thinking that I'm gonna keel over at any moment," I stated with a frown, "which I'm not to my knowledge. Nothing's wrong to the point that you have to worry."

"You're throwing yourself headlong into danger. I have a reason to worry. Especially with how you're clearly trying to hide something from me."

"Because it's. None. Of. Your. Business."

"It is now that I feel responsible for you and your well-being," he stated as I opened the first of two layers of doors.

"Okay, fine. I'm going in to the hospital in two days for an outpatient surgery to remove my gall bladder, okay?" I said, snapping.

"That sounds horrible," he stated.

"Not as horrible as knowing that I could get gall stone attacks for little to no reason, especially if I eat any of my favorite foods that aren't fruits or vegetables."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. Don't worry about me," I stated as I led the way to the one way I knew how to get to the basement- the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and I walked in with the Doctor following me and I pressed the button for the basement. I clung to the side rails and closed my eyes, doing my usual inward chant that I do when in an elevator. I had seen too many movies where elevators would break and someone died. Even if I had seen the episode of Mythbusters where they tested out what would cause an elevator to fail like that, I still didn't trust elevators.

"You don't like elevators," he stated, almost laughing.

"Everyone's afraid of something," I stated with a frown as the door opened and we walked into a room which had corridors stretching in every direction, full of smaller rooms.

I walked further from the elevator, careful to not to walk into the instrument lockers.

"What's in the lockers?"

"The lockers are used by students to store their instruments," I stated lightly, putting my hands in my pockets as I walked around.

"Don't go wondering off," he stated.

"First, you're trying to rid yourself of me and now you want to keep me in sight," I stated with a bemused grin.

"Just that I know what your idea of wondering off is."

"There's a reason why I once thought that my first name was trouble," I stated, "everyone told me that constantly to the point I believed them."

"Really?" he asked, almost incredulous.

"No, but I was still constantly told that," I stated, walking further down the corridor, "the joke was that if anyone could sniff out trouble, it would be me."

"Well then, what does your nose tell you?" he asked.

"Right now?" I asked, getting a nod, "allergy season sucks."

"Let's just focus on finding the nest," he stated with a frown.

"Right. If you hear me shout, it means either 'come here, I found something' or 'run away'," I stated.

"Please don't," he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping, "I've heard enough screaming to last two millennia."

I shrugged, continuing on my own merry way. I figured that if anyone found something, he would. After all, I've already scoped out this entire floor on my own. Besides, I had my own thoughts that I wanted to deal with without him figuring me out. It wasn't that I was terrified of him and kept things from him out of terror. It was more like I didn't know how he'd react but I knew that if he truly felt that he was responsible for me, I was safe from him killing me. Of course, I knew that he was quite opposed to anyone killing anyone or anything. Was he still like that, even if he had underwent such a radical exterior change? There was still so much that I didn't know or understand.

But what bothered me the most was that I knew he was alien, he said as much. I didn't want him to freak out over what I knew was a particularly normal occurrence for humans. Like getting wisdom teeth removed. And getting one's gall bladder removed. Or appendix. But of course, I knew he was an alien. He may not even have wisdom teeth or a gall bladder or even an appendix and may think that it was more serious than it really is.

But what worried me the most as I walked through the level of practice rooms, was how they would remove my gall bladder. Would they be cutting it into small chunks and then pull them through my ribs? Would they open my ribs and lift it out? They couldn't just cut it off from the other organs and let it rot. I was pondering all this when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I had been deep in thought. Too deep in thought for me to remember that I was teaming up with the Doctor. So, I acted completely on impulse.

I really should watch what my impulses are to a hand being on my shoulder.

Especially around guys that I know would probably not harm me directly.

I looked away from him, rubbing the back of my neck as I could hear him making pained noises. I would be staring a whole in the floor in shame, but he was taking up the floor in front of me.

"With a kick like that, you should play football," he muttered, his voice still high and squeaky.

"I used to play soccer. Back when I could keep up with everyone," I muttered lightly.

"Maybe you should get back into it," he stated, clearly trying to keep himself occupied with anything but the pain.

Yeah, he was probably going to be walking funny for a while.

"Going to be okay?" I asked him, feeling guilty, embarrassed, and apologetic.

"Probably," he stated before frowning, asking, "what was that for anyways?"

"I was too busy thinking and...I forgot that I wasn't alone," I stated, sounding completely rueful to my own ears.

"So people like to sneak up on you when you're alone?" he asked.

"A few," I stated lightly, "maybe we should get you an ice pack or something."

"I'll be fine," he stated getting up off of the floor and paused, almost like he was considering me, analyzing me before he turned decidedly not-serious saying, "so, I found something. And no, it wasn't your shoe. I think I found where they're hiding."

"Great. Time to crash their party," I stated with a smile.

"Not you," he stated, turning serious.

"I don't have any weapons," I stated.

"You didn't exactly had a weapon on you when you entered that ship either," he stated with a frown, "and you were about to start killing them, which, might I add, would've ended with your own death. I'm not going to expose you to that kind of risk again."

"So that's it, huh? You've passed judgment on me, not knowing that I've changed too," I stated with a frown, "You don't know what I've gone through since, and not because you happened to enter my life for a single day, so you can abandon that thought right now. I've got nothing to lose, Doctor. No family. No friends. Nothing. But I also have something that makes me a different person. An understanding of just how royally I screwed up, how royally I prolly ticked you off. What I'm asking is a chance here. A chance to prove that just cause a human did something awful in the heat of the moment, when they were overcome by grief...that humans can change. Maybe not in the same way your people obviously do, but in subtle ways. I want to change your opinion of me...your judgment of me. Not so I can be exposed by danger by aliens just for the sake of it...but maybe because..." I said, not aware that I was ranting and had brought up a thought that scared me that I didn't want him to know that I thought.

"Because what? What is it?" he asked, looking at me, not knowing of what I may say.

"Just that... someone with the power of time travel...they can alter anyone's pasts at any given time...and change them. By changing someone's past, you can permanently change who they are. And..."

"I don't do that," he said calmly as he put his hands on my shoulders in a comforting way, almost like he was speaking to a child, "I never have before and I've faced some truly horrible beings out there. What makes you even think that I'd do that to someone who doesn't deserve it."

It was then that I found myself, yet again, being hugged by the Doctor. Did he always hug people seemingly on random? It could be worse. Something in me told me that he wasn't altogether a bad person. After all, we had saved human lives together, working as a team. In a way, I felt that I had started to see him as a bit of a friend. And that scared me.

Because I knew friendships never last. They always end. Sometimes with a bittersweet moment. Sometimes with a soul-crushingly depressing moment. And sometimes, with me kicking and screaming. And when friendships end, I just feel worse about it. And I just didn't want to feel that same pain again. That same anguish.

As suddenly as he hugged me, he let go with a wide grin, making him look quite the grinning maniac. He seemed that he was back to his energetic self. This version of him was more energetic than the last one I'd seen and that one was still more energetic than I've been for a long time.

"Let's go see what I found," he said with a grin before grabbing my wrist and pulling me along as he ran.

I started to see a pattern here. Maybe this is what anyone who travels with him goes through on a daily basis. For a few moments, I realized that it could be fun. I knew I needed a break from my daily life, anyhow. But the real question was whether or not he would take me on adventures? That was the real unknown.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Peek-a-boo!

As it turned out, what the Doctor led me to was what looked to be some sort of broom closet. I knew that it was one of the few places I hadn't looked since it was only for the janitorial staff to use. As a student, I didn't have access to it. I looked over to the Doctor who was grinning as he opened the door like he was revealing something awe-inspiring. A mop had been propped against the door and fell, almost as if it was attacking the Doctor, who had gone on the assumption that it wasn't a mop, but a hostile alien who was trying to attack him.

"That's a mop, Doctor," I stated in a deadpan, "and you found the janitorial staff's supply closet. Wow, I'm impressed! Really, color me impressed. Now I know where to go if I need a mop."

"No. Nononono. There were readings coming from this place," he stated as he started to rummage through the supply closet.

"We'll get into huge trouble if you keep it up," I stated.

"Hello. What do we have here?" I heard him say in an intrigued voice.

I poked my head into the closet, seeing a barely hidden hatch opening. I smiled at him as I entered the closet, noticing that he was walking so that he wouldn't stick out too much.

"I recognize the architecture," I stated, knowing that the interior reminded me of my last adventure with the Doctor.

"Definitely the same race," he stated, not glancing at me, "but why would they be here?"

"There's all sorts of illnesses in any large enough crowd. A college campus is a breeding ground for viruses, giving them plenty of an opportunity to mutate," I stated quickly.

"Shush. I'm thinking," he stated, getting a sigh from me before starting to think aloud, "last time we encountered them, they were trying to not just use humans as experiments, but to research something. What was it? Oh! I remember. Contagions. Air borne viruses. But why a college? And how does this tie in with the suicide rate?"

I gave him a sidelong glance before shaking my head. He was being dense again, which was something his previous version wasn't. Well, not this blatantly if he was. He'd catch up after a while.

"I got it! There's a large amount of humans here. The contagions would be able to spread and mutate quickly," he stated.

"Nice of you to finally catch up," I muttered with a frown, "I just hope that they're not up to their own tricks again."

"I think we should leave," he stated before pulling me along, not quickly but not taking his sweet time.

Next thing I knew, we were waiting for the elevator. I glanced at him, confused and feeling that it had happened quite suddenly. Why did he choose to get us both out of there for little to no reason?

"What was that for?" I asked with a frown.

"I didn't like it. The last thing I want is to see you become a killer again," he stated with a frown.

"So you're all set in your ways about me, huh?" she asked with a frown.

"I just don't want to see you be like that again," he replied gently, "you might never snap out of it."

"I don't think so," I said suddenly with a light tone.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because of a very good reason. You know how to snap me out of it. And if you need to be snapped out of it, I could just as well do the same," I stated with a smirk.

"Unless we both are needing to be snapped out of it at the same time."

"You need to acknowledge that people can change. That I can."

"Oh, I have no doubt that you can change, but not that completely. And how long had it been for you since that day? A year or two?"

"Almost five, actually," I stated with a frown.

"Okay, fine. I'll give you one chance. One," he stated.

"But that chance won't be tomorrow," I stated lightly.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"I'll be in the hospital most of a day," I stated, getting a look from him.

"What? Why?"

"Human issue. It's not life-threatening. I'll just be on the mend for a little while," I stated.

"What human issue?" he asked as I started to lead us towards the library.

"You do know that there are a few organs known to be...how should I put it... there are some organs that won't affect us if they're removed. They tend to be the more problematic ones, prone to damage and other issues."

"Time Lords also have some organs like that," he stated with a nod.

"Well, one quit working, so I'm going in to get it removed before complications can arise," I stated gently.

"So you will be okay, right?" he asked.

"One of the top ten most common surgeries in the country. The only bit of it that has been known to kill patients all stem from the anesthetic. Since it's probably a similar one used for my wisdom teeth extraction, I should be perfectly fine, if not really...interesting."

"Interesting?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I acted drunk," I stated, "and I was still under the influence for five hours afterwards. Puking, asking to talk to people I dislike... yeah. I'm a mellow drunk, apparently. Kinda hard for me to tell since I blacked out for most of it, mostly around the times...yeah. To this day, I don't know what I wanted to tell the woman who gave me part of her genetics."

"That's your own mother you're talking about," he stated with a frown.

"Sometimes, I wonder," I stated with a frown, "she's everything I never want to be. I'll see you when I see ya, Doctor."

With that, I headed towards the bus stop instead of the library, walking around the building. I wanted to go back to my apartment. Half because the school day was over, half because I wanted to make myself scarce. Sides, I had a lot to do the next day. But of course, he seemed to have more to say about it.

"Isn't that a mean thing to say about the lady who gave you life?" he asked.

"She threw me away like I was yesterday's newspaper. As far as I'm concerned, she didn't do me any favors by bringing me into this world," I stated, turning around to look at the Doctor, "Because I'll tell you something about this world you prolly haven't had the chance to see since you don't exactly stick around. This world isn't a great beacon of anything. Everyone who walks around only care about money and social standing. And if they so much as realizes that you don't match their concept of normal, they'll either ignore you or flat out become violent. And I was born to never, ever reach the widely-held standard of normal. I don't know what you see in humanity and I think that if you see humanity as more than just a blundering group of hypocritical idiots who are just a notch above herd animals, then you really need to take some time and see humanity's true face."

He raised his eyebrows at me during my tirade, almost like he wanted me to let out my pent-up emotions on the matter. Silence dragged on after I let out the tirade, his expression almost unreadable before he broke into a grin. It was almost the kind of smile an elderly adult would give to an overly idealistic child whose ideals were the opposite of what they really were.

"Then maybe I should show you what I see humanity is," he stated before adding, "come along, Olmstead."

He strolled down the concrete path he had been following me on, taking the lead as he grasped my wrist. I knew that he was a time traveler and that he had all the time in the world to tackle our current situation with the aliens in the college. He seemed to think that this was more important. Which made me question his priorities. Didn't saving lives mean more than just making me change my opinion on every other idiot on the little rock called Earth?

"But I thought dealing with the situation here was important," I stated, easily keeping up with the Doctor now that he didn't have as large of a stride.

"It is important," he stated, "but we don't have to experience it all linearly."

"Why do I get the idea that you never do," I muttered.

"What's the fun in experiencing everything in order?" he asked, almost sounding incredulous.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The First Lesson

"Where and when are you taking me?" I asked the Doctor as I held onto the safety railing as the craft shook and teetered more than any carnival ride I've ever been on and yet my stomach had yet to complain.

"I've always wanted to see the first Thanksgiving," he stated lightly.

"Right because you want to see how things were immediately before those from the English isles screwed over the natives out of their sacred lands and in many cases, completely wiped out whole tribes," I stated with a frown.

"It's more than just that," he stated, almost becoming manic, "it's the idea that the local inhabitants chose to assist and help people who they never met or knew anything of instead of attacking them outright. They were willing to welcome those who were unlike them in every way."

"And those they helped wound up committing genocide and those who were unfortunate to survive were given the worst bits of land," I stated, trying to have him see how that would later become a mistake on the part of the Native Americans.

"And I bet even if you told the natives what would happen if they do assist the pilgrims, they would still assist," he stated before adding, "which I suggest you to not do. Last thing we need is for a fixed point in time to change."

"I've always thought that time is fluid," I stated with a frown, "like in Back to the Future. The future could always change by the people living in the present."

"In the real world, there are pockets where the events are set and any deviation can cause a rip in time itself. Long ago, these tears would be repaired by my people. Because I'm the only one left, any rips in time causes consequences where everyone dies unless the event is corrected," he stated.

"And how do we know if any given event is a fixed point?"

"Because I can see when any given event is a fixed point. At any moment, I can see every possible outcome to a given situation except for fixed points," he stated.

"So we'll just avoid paradoxes. But sometimes, more than one dock is needed," I stated, trying to lighten the mood with one of my well-known bad jokes.

"And I was told that my jokes were bad," he muttered with a smirk.

"I'm full of them," I replied as the TARDIS settled down and he glanced at me.

"We're going to have to wear proper clothing for the time frame," he stated.

"And I suppose that this ship has a room with everything we'd need," I muttered, not putting anything past the fact that I was in a time-and-space-traveling ship that looks like a blue box just big enough for maybe one person to stand in on the outside.

"Of course," he stated with an almost childlike grin before rattling off a long list of directions that I knew I didn't fully understand.

"Can I get a map instead?" I asked with what I knew was a rueful smirk that clearly said that I was a complete idiot because I can't keep track of lists of directions for beans.

"I'll lead you there," he said almost cheerfully, making me grow tired of how much energy he had and the fact that the only way I'd be able to keep up with his energy is if I was on a constant caffeine high, which I wasn't on.

I knew that the next time I would find myself in a sufficiently advanced grocery store, I was going to stock up on cans of coffee, energy drinks, and citrus sodas with enough caffeine to nearly overdose on caffeine with a single sip. That was going to be the only way I can keep up with this guy. I mean, I've met manic people and they didn't even have half as much energy as the Doctor. Well, this version of him.

"I didn't know you knew so much about history," he stated as he nearly ran down the corridor as he led me.

"Well, everyone knows the vague bits about American history if they get a good school and I took American History I the first quarter I was in college," I stated with a shrug, "before I got into the IT program."

"What got you into the IT program? It all seems boring, sitting at a computer and typing. Where's the fun in that?"

"Computer languages are like lego blocks. If you understand how all the pieces can fit together, you can build incredible things that can benefit many people and make life easier in the long run. Or you can wind up with a sad failure that you keep telling yourself is a work of art and it looks beautiful but it crumbles to pieces with the smallest tap. Besides, I understand computers more than I do most people."

"Only most?"

"If given the time, patience, inclination, and enough information, I could understand how specific individuals think but..."

"But what?"

"I still don't understand humanity in general," I admitted quietly, "so many rules I don't understand or know and when I cross a line I never knew was there... no one's willing to give me a second chance."

"I know the feeling," he admitted quietly as he stopped in front of a set of double doors before opening it, revealing a two-story room that looked like it was just one large closet, "here we are. Let's see what we can find that will fit 1621's Plymoth."

I poked at the clothing on the racks, finding that I was curious about the kind of clothes he kept in the large room. Something colorful caught my eye and I pushed everything away from it so I can see what it was. I stepped back at the mess that I saw. It was clearly a jacket of some sort, but it looked like a rainbow puked on it, making it look more like something a really bad clown would wear.

"How much of this stuff have you worn?" I asked, making a face at the offending jacket.

"Found the old jacket then," he stated, "Some of it was worn during my previous incarnations. Including that jacket. Luckily, I have a more refined fashion sense now."

"That's up for debate," I muttered, "I mean, a bow tie. Seriously?"

"Bowties are cool," he said as his voice rose in pitch, taking on a defensive quality.

"Next thing I know, you'll be wearing things like Stetsons and fezzes."

"Those are cool too," he said, still taking on a defensive tone.

"Whatever you say," I stated, dismissing the claim that he made about having any fashion sense.

"Here we go," he stated, holding up an outfit on a hanger which was a one-piece dress with the top being covered by a long-sleeved top, the dress a deep emerald green and the top being a pale blue.

"Pass," I stated with a frown.

"Why? It'll look good on you and fits the time-frame," he stated.

"One, I make it a habit of not taking fashion tips from someone who thinks that bowties, fezzes, and Stetsons are cool. Two, I don't wear dresses and skirts," I replied flatly, giving the Doctor a frown.

"What's wrong with dresses and skirts? A lot of women I've known worn them without a problem."

"I've got several issues with them. For one thing, I don't like the draft unless it's stinking hot out. For another thing, it's more that up until recently, it was socially acceptable that the only things women could wear were dresses and skirts. Thirdly, I was continually forced to stick to the feminine of being feminine and I don't do so well with sticking to any stereotype. Sides, seeing how every time we've found trouble, we tend to run away from it, dresses and skirts aren't exactly known to be clothing that facilitates running. I mean, we're going to be out there in mostly wild flora. Dresses and skirts can get tangled in bushes and brambles."

"Then we'll make sure that you don't get stuck in bushes and brambles," he stated lightly, "or are you letting such a thing as your dislike for dresses and skirts get in the way of your life? I thought you were above throwing such a fit."

"I wasn't having a fit. I'm just saying that I'm sure we can find something else."

"Like you said, until recently, women were expected to wear dresses and skirts."

"Fine," I stated with a frown and a sigh of resignation as I snatched the hanger from his hand, "somehow, I think this was just because you dislike my outfit."

"It's just that it might be too much for the Pilgrims to deal with," he stated, obviously being careful with his words.

"I'll give you that," I agreed, "where do I..."

"Upstairs," he stated, "should be fine."

I nodded and went upstairs with the outfit, not looking forward to removing my steampunk outfit and replacing it with something that looked like it could be worn in my original time by Mormons. Once I got up the steps, I let out a sigh of resignation as I saw that there was an alcove in the second floor that was cut off from the rest of the room by a wall, forming almost a full room by itself. I walked into the alcove with a frown, not knowing what was going to happen next. I didn't speak the version of English that the Pilgrims did and I knew that things might get pretty rough as I found that there was a chair in the alcove and sat down so I could remove my fake leather knee-high boots. I had been lucky that they were able to fit my calves and wide feet.

My stepmom used to tell me that cathedrals are never built on outhouse foundations. Like that really made sense since feet weren't exactly made of whatever foundations are made of. Especially outhouse foundations. Did outhouses even have foundations? I wouldn't know. It wasn't like I took a class on outhouses or foundations.

My stomach started to ache as I started to remove the leather belts. The first belt had a pouch on it that clasped shut thanks to a snapping button thing. The pouch tended to hold things that I'd find useful and didn't have room in my pockets for. Things like matches and smoke bombs and marbles. Then off came the vest I had put on earlier. It was more a waistcoat than a vest, I admitted to myself. Then off came the blouse I had put on. I then slid on the dress and then the long-sleeved blouse. Then, I decided to just roll up the legs of my cargo pants. The dress didn't have pockets, which I learned to rely on. Pockets were useful to hold items. Items like handheld video games, paperback novels, wallets, and other useful odds and ends. I didn't want to let go of too much for the sake of historical accuracy.

My stomach was getting more upset. It happens. I'd just have to power through it. Last thing I'd wanted was to scare or worry the Doctor. Or have him act like a medical doctor, which I knew he wasn't. I could wait until I returned to my normal time and take care of it then. It was just an upset stomach, after all. It was probably all because I was hungry. But I didn't feel hungry. Must've been something I ate disagreeing with my system. What could I have eaten to cause that effect? It didn't matter.

"You okay down there?" I called down the stairs.

"Took you long enough," came the reply as I let out an annoyed sigh before walking down the stairs to see him dressed in a plain buttoned-up shirt that was a pale green, dark brown pants of some kind and socks with some sort of shoe, which he tossed me a pair, noticing that I was barefoot.

"Should we be heading out?" I asked.

"Are you in some kind of hurry?"

"I do have a surgery scheduled for the day after we left," I stated.

"But it's not something that will threaten your life if we wait, right?" he asked.

"True," I stated, "as long as it doesn't become infected."

"I doubt it will if it's just this trip. Once we're done, I'll drop you off at your flat the night before the operation," he stated, almost in a way to reassure me as I walked out of the room with him quickly taking the lead.

"So how big is the inside of the TARDIS?" I asked.

"It's as large as I want it to be. Currently, there's a library, swimming pool, kitchen, medical wing, bedrooms and a laundry facility."

"One of these days, I should poke around the library," I stated, pondering what kind of books someone like him would keep in his library.

"Maybe," he stated, taking a non-committal tone.

"It sucks traveling alone," I stated, remembering of the times I'd gone traveling alone and how things weren't at all fun as they could've been.

"You traveled alone?" he asked.

"I was abandoned up in Alaska and I've gone off and seen various cities and towns up there, but I'd see things and realize that there's no one there to point it out to. Or to crack a joke or do something funny to. I went to a mall in another city, completely alone once back then. I wanted to have fun window shopping. It's not fun when it's just you."

"You needed to buy glass?"

"Window shopping. As in going to a mall just to look around the stores and wishing you had the money to buy stuff," I stated.

"That's something I've never heard of. And you call it fun?"

"It can be fun, depending on who you're with," I stated with a shrug.

"Weird."

"Maybe one of these days after my operation," I stated as we reached the main room of the TARDIS.

"So 1621," he stated as he walked down the ramp to the double doors and flung them wide.

I saw what looked to be woods outside the TARDIS and I smirked. Sometimes, just seeing nature would make me smirk. I liked nature as long as the ground was solid and I wasn't in fear of walking into a two-foot deep mud hole that looked almost like solid ground. I did that once. And then tried to get my foot free by making the other foot join the first one in the mud hole. Nearly lost both of my hiking shoes that way.

I walked out of the TARDIS, the Doctor closing the door behind me. I looked around, seeing that there was wilderness all around with birch trees with their paper-like bark that made decent fire starting kindling. I could see smoke rising from the treetops. The smoke wasn't like a forest fire, but was clearly the kind that came from chimneys. There was a settlement nearby. I glanced at the Doctor who nodded in the direction I faced.

"This way," he stated, leading me toward where I knew the settlement would be based on the smoke rising to the sky.

I was glad that it was only a half an hour's walk to the settlement. The footgear I'd been given looked flimsy and barely able to protect my feet and I'd been worried about destroying the footgear by stepping on a sufficiently sharp twig or something. But they seemed to be sturdier than they appeared as well as more comfortable than I'd thought they'd be.

The settlement looked every bit as I figured it would look like- wooden houses arranged almost haphazardly with dirt paths leading to the main points of town. And we seemed to fit in well enough with our clothing. We garnered plenty of attention, but only because they weren't expecting just two people to show up and through means of apparently walking. We were strangers and they seemed a bit mixed on whether to chase us out of town or to welcome us to town.

It was during this uncertain point that five men approached us from the crowd, looking a bit concerned. They didn't seem openly hostile, but I learned how people can hide hostility up until they start throwing punches.

"We weren't expecting visitors," one of the men stated lightly.

"We were in the area and decided to drop by. We can leave if you want," the Doctor replied just as lightly.

"Please, come and visit Governor Bradford," the first man stated, "we will escort you to provide protection."

I saw as the Doctor followed them and I decided to follow the men. I wondered why they seemed to be so unwelcoming to visitors. I didn't understand why, but I was going to learn just what was going on. I was curious and, knowing the Doctor, so was he.

We were brought to a large wooden house and led inside the house, revealing an office. Regardless of the era, an office always looks like an office. Chairs facing a desk with another chair behind the desk that looks nicer, windows in the right place to cast light into the room. Pretty normal as far as offices go. And sitting at the desk was who I assumed was the Governor.

He looked concerned for some reason, but didn't seem to blame us for anything that had befallen the colony. Which was a welcome change. He looked at us as we were led inside, glancing at us as he stood and greeted us with a handshake. Again, pretty standard. I wondered just how much had really changed in the centuries as far as the little bits of culture was concerned.

"I am Governor William Bradford of the Plymoth," he said by way of introduction.

"I'm the Doctor and this is my friend, Melissa Olmstead," the Doctor replied.

"It's obvious that you guys are in some kinda trouble the way we were leered at," I interjected, wanting to get to the bottom of everything and getting a glance from the Doctor.

"Quite perceptive. We're typically more hospitable than we seem to be today," he stated with a frown, "and Plymoth is indeed facing, as you put it, trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" the Doctor asked, taking on his usual serious face.

I had noticed both in the hospital and at the college, that when the Doctor knows that there's trouble nearby and that people are about to or already have chosen to rely on him, he becomes serious. His eyes darken and his normal light or hyperactive energy changes and becomes less evident. He becomes focused. At that point, he becomes nothing unlike a force of nature. Things are going to change and he has made up his mind that he is going to help others and nothing will stop him from saving the day. It is at that point that the Doctor is in and things are going to become better. Eventually.

The Governor's expression became drawn, showing how much he truly cared about his new home and of the people who lived in it. That little voice which tells me whether a person is good or nothing but trouble told me, deep in the recesses of my mind, that the Governor was at the very least, a decent enough human being. That same voice, the day I had met the Doctor told me that he was a good man who just manages to have bad luck sometimes. But I knew that that little voice at the back of my brain that tells me these things never tells the whole story. There is always more to people than just rather or not they were likely to be bad news. And sometimes, I am dumb enough to ignore this voice. Other times, it has been wrong. Only once had it been wrong. And only once had I ignored it. I make it quite the habit of never repeating my mistakes if I could help it.

"People have gone missing. It's always at night and the most anyone was able to see was a shadow running away. I fear that it could be either the Pokanoket or perhaps one of the rival tribes trying to make us believe that it was the Pokanoket."

"Do you know if the Pokanoket are also victim of this shadow creature?" the Doctor asked.

"They haven't approached us about any disappearances of their people. I believe that they could just be as busy as we are with the harvest."

"Can we get to the Pokanoket to see if they're having trouble?" the Doctor asked as I remained quiet.

"I'll ask Samoset to lead you to his tribe, if you believe that it will improve the situation."

"Thank you, Governor," the Doctor replied.

"Thanks," I stated with a respectful nod.

It was clear that we had been dismissed as I followed the Doctor out of the office before he turned to me with an expression of curiosity.

"You didn't speak much," he stated.

"You seemed to have everything together. I had nothing meaningful to add," I replied lightly, looking up at the sparse clouds suspended and slowly moving across the same blue sky that I've ever known.

"For a second there, I thought you were shy," he stated, "you spoke quieter than you usually do."

"I was just using my indoor voice as a show of respect," I stated just as lightly.

"Oh really?" he asked, rising his eyebrows, almost to challenge me to dispel his disbelief.

"I'm so not shy, Doctor. I mean, I was clearly not shy when we first met in the hospital or when you popped into my childhood," I stated, almost sounding forceful as I met his gaze with what I hoped was a look of sheer stubbornness.

"I don't think anyone could be shy when they think the life of a loved one is threatened," the Doctor stated, "but then again, I think you were too curious to be shy."

"How many times do I need to tell you that I'm not shy for it to get through to your brain?" I asked, growing tired of the effort to convince him that I wasn't something I knew I was.

"I think the one person you should be convincing is yourself," he stated before grinning and grabbing my wrist saying, "there's things to see! I want to see everything while we're here!"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Spirits, Curses, and Prophecies

After what felt like forever being pulled and dragged every which way around Plymoth, I wanted nothing but to sit down and relax. I knew that I normally had more energy, but I wondered if it was because I was probably going through a temporal version of jet lag or if it had anything to do with the throbbing pain I was trying to keep to myself. My stomach had remained in its generally unhappy mood since I had changed into the pilgrim outfit that I was currently wearing, making me feel particularly not even peckish.

It didn't take me very long to find a place to sit down and I took off what I wore for shoes and rubbed my feet. They were getting tender from being on them, the result of having feet that had grown awkwardly to the point that I had both high arches and flat feet, the same type of feet that my dad also had. I let out a sigh as the thought popped in my head as did the knowledge that my dad was dead and it had been all my fault.

The same knowledge that there was nothing I could ever do to change his fate. He was dead and I had learned to accept it. It was probably for the better, I realized, recalling that his cause of death was officially listed as kidney failure. I knew for a fact that he had already turned down the option of undergoing dialysis months before his death. His fate had already been sealed then. If he hadn't been done in by the genetic manipulation of the aliens, he would have died anyways of kidney failure. And there was nothing I could do about it. Instead of wishing to save his life, I understood that no matter what, I would have still blamed myself for his death, either through not getting the genetic alterations reversed in time or through not being able to convince my dad to start dialysis. I was already fated to fail.

"Are you okay?" I heard the Doctor ask, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine," I stated calmly, looking away, "just thinking."

"About?"

"That you have nothing to worry from me. Well, as far as changing my personal past myself," I stated, "I have no interest in trying to save my dad because...well...no matter what, I was going to lose him one way or another."

"What do you mean by that?"

"His kidneys were already failing and he denied dialysis which would be rough on him, but would've kept him alive at least until some other organ gave up. If the changes didn't get him, the kidney failure would've and no matter what, he'd still be dead within a year. And really, there's no reason to change my past. I may not enjoy my past, but it is still my past and is directly connected to who I am now."

"Not a lot of people see it like you do," he stated quietly as our guide reached us.

"You are the ones who wish to be led to my tribe?" the clearly native man asked, his rough voice holding respect.

"That would be us," the Doctor stated just as respectfully as I slid the material that was being used for shoes back over my feet and got back on my hurting and tired feet.

Regardless of how comfortable these shoes were, they didn't exactly have a solid supportive sole. Which also seemed to be an issue with most of the shoes I've ever had. Not enough arch support and the insoles I've found weren't rigid enough. I was doing what I can to hide my discomfort as I followed the men away from Plymoth, feeling like my guts and feet were in a competition to outdo each other in the realm of making me miserable.

I remained silent as the guys were making small talk as we made our way through the forest. The air was wonderful and fresh as I took a deep breath. I bit back any pained sound as it felt like my right side decided to hurt worse. This was new. I made a mental note to breathe not as deeply for the foreseeable future. This can't be good, but I wasn't expecting this adventure to last too long. Sides, it was most likely a gall bladder attack and I knew that those weren't exactly lethal. The worst I was probably going to deal with was pain and I could do that. I've had to hide my pain before, but this was the first time I'd decided to hide my pain out of just not wanting to worry the Doctor. Usually, I hid my pain as a survival mechanism.

But I knew that the Doctor wasn't someone I'd have to hide things from in order to survive. He was someone I'd have to hide things from in order to not worry him. Who knows what level of mother hen he could be and the last thing I really wanted to ever deal with is a very old alien time traveler's bedside manner. Either it would be atrocious and making me want to mount escape attempts as he would try with the best of intentions to help me or it could just be that he'd fret over the smallest thing and panic whenever some new symptom cropped up. Who knows how much he'd know about human biology and I knew that I didn't want to be the one to teach him such a topic. He just wasn't my type and I knew it and in a way relieved about it.

"I hear that the harvest is going wonderfully," I was aware of the Doctor saying.

"Those in Plymoth are very excited about it," our guide stated, "their spirits are very high considering that this is their first harvest here."

I felt my stomach lurch and I gulped the bile back down. I was not going to puke. Not if I could help it. I wondered why my stomach would hate me so much. I mean, the last thing I ate was a salad. Just a mix of my favorite vegetables and nothing else. There was no reason why my system would be so upset at me. It didn't make sense to me.

"I hear that they're considering having a festival to celebrate the harvest soon," I heard the Doctor say to our guide, clearly cheerful and excited and completely oblivious to me.

I stopped in my tracks. Everything seemed to spin. Normally, this was a feeling I only felt during the fair and only because I'd gone on the Gravitron five times in a row. But the nearest Gravitron was centuries away and I was definitely not at a fair. I didn't like what it meant. By instinct, I doubled over just as I felt the rush of liquids flow up through my throat, burning every inch they raised up. I knew I was going to be sick around the same time that my instincts took over and the liquid was forcibly evicted from my body. I knew I had gotten the Doctor's attention.

I knew that the Doctor was aware that I wasn't feeling well because he was suddenly next to me, feeling my forehead with his hand, which was actually quite cool to the touch. I was led to a fallen log to sit as I knew I was shaky and unsure on my feet. Quite normal for me following what had just happened.

"Are you going to be okay?" I could hear the Doctor ask me, his voice calm but quiet, almost uncertain and clearly concerned.

"Just an upset stomach," I responded as I tried to relax in an attempt at gathering my strength, which was always low following what had happened.

"I think it's more than just an upset stomach," he stated, his tone still calm, quiet, and concerned but with a bit more sternness, "are you trying to hide something from me, Olmstead?"

"If I was hiding anything from you, it's because I don't want you to worry about me," I stated, looking down at the forest floor.

"I always worry about the friends I take with me," he stated, sounding gentle as he was obviously telling me that he wasn't upset, "and I'm already worried about you. It's a bit too late about keeping me from worrying about you."

"Right," I stated with a frown, "it's clearly just a gall bladder attack. It happens. It's just a bit...anomalous."

"In what way?"

"It's worse than ever and I haven't eaten anything to cause it to happen," I stated quietly, "normally, it just feels like real bad gas. But this time... I can't take deep breaths without my right side hurting, which by the way, is the same side that the gull bladder is...obviously nausea...and I'm the kinda person that takes a lot for me to puke..."

"And you have a fever," he added with a frown, "I'm going to have to take you home so you can get proper treatment."

"I'll be fine," I stated, "it usually passes within about eight hours. There's nothing I can do other than keep taking my medication."

"Fine, but if it continues past that mark, I will take you home," he stated with a tone of finality.

"Deal," I agreed, pushing myself off of the fallen log as our guide approached me.

"This should settle your stomach," our guide said, giving me a handful of plant matter before handing me a waterskin, "and you need some water as well."

"Thanks," I stated, accepting the handful of plant matter and the waterskin, downing a gulp of water first before I chewed on the plants, tasting that the mix of plants had a pepper-y taste.

"We're almost there," the guide stated as he started to lead us again, "It isn't that far now."

We continued in silence with the Doctor giving me glances that were not just of worry and concern but also of annoyance. Like it bothered him that I kept soldering on, despite the fact that I wasn't at my best. But I was used to it. I was used to my body having issues, whether they happened every few weeks or whether they were unusual but not that unusual. I was the one who would keep on going even if I had a sprained ankle. I just wasn't used to showing weakness. Mostly because I had shown weakness as a child and I had been attacked for it. I was stronger now than I had been back then. And I honestly didn't care if it bothered those around me; it was a core part of who I was.

I found that the guide hadn't been kidding when he mentioned that we were almost there. I estimated that my little break had happened when we were about half a mile from the tribe. I still felt a little weak, but again, I had to put on a face and solder on. When we entered the tribe's settlement, I found myself surrounded by more history. I had seen pictures of various tribes before, but it was one thing to see it in a black and white photo and another to be able to be there. I looked around almost in awe, seeing a culture that felt timeless and ancient that had been wiped out by the time I was born alive and thriving.

"What is the meaning of this, bringing unfamiliar strangers into the tribe?" a man demanded of our guide.

Out guide was about to answer when a voice that belonged to someone almost ancient and very wise speak up from behind the man, "They are expected. The spirits said that help is coming. It is them. Please, follow me, travelers."

Our guide gave us a nod as we followed the elderly woman through the settlement. She wore robes that were clearly made of animal skins with wooden beads suspended from the robes by fringes cut in the robes. She walked with a gnarled walking stick that was clearly a piece of driftwood. As we progressed, I saw people stopping their busywork to watch us walk past. Obviously, they weren't exactly accustomed to visitors, especially strangers.

I found myself not too long later, sitting down next to the Doctor in a hut. The hut was dark, the only thing casting light into the darkness were the doorway that was mostly closed by a curtain made of animal skin, the fire in the center of the main room and the opening in the ceiling, directly above the fire. I could smell various kinds of herbs burning, almost tickling my nose, but soothed me. The smell almost reminded me of one of those New Age shops back in my time.

"You have traveled far, the distance not just measured in the physical path on the ground, but in time itself," the wizened woman stated, saying the latter part with a wry grin, almost like she knew a cosmic joke that no one else knew.

"How do you know?" the Doctor asked respectfully, obviously driven by curiosity.

"I know much. You are supposed to be dead, yet you are not. You are known by many names, keeping your real name hidden. Destroyer of Worlds. The Oncoming Storm. The Doctor. Do you hide your real name out of regret or-"

"I think that's enough," the Doctor stated, almost like she was hitting a very sore nerve with him, "I want to know how you know so much about me."

"The spirits tell me," she stated, "the spirits both fear and respect you, as does many. However, fear can lead to the creation of many enemies, as you are painfully aware."

"What are these spirits that seem to know so much about me?"

"That is not my place to tell you," she replied, again with that smirk that clearly said that she knew more than she was saying and that she was enjoying putting the Doctor off-balance.

"What else do these 'spirits' of yours tell you about me?" he asked, growing curious again.

"They say that your past will meet your present as the prophesy you believe has been fulfilled will finally be fulfilled as they return."

"Every prophesy that I've encountered has been fulfilled. I died and regenerated. I fought the Master once again. What else is there?" the Doctor asked, clearly wanting to know more.

"I cannot say. That is for you to figure out or endure," the wise woman stated as her eyes locked on me, "and you, unwanted one, you will die long before your time, but you will not be alone."

"Of all things you call me, it's 'unwanted'," I muttered sourly.

"It is what your mother called you the most, is it not?" she asked, getting me to look away.

"Is that true?" I could hear the Doctor ask me, his tone seething with anger and rage, but clearly not directed at me.

"Yeah," I stated quietly.

"Beware, Doctor. If you change too much of her past, she will cease to be the one you see as your friend. But for now, there is something that has brought the two of you here, and it isn't revelations of your futures or your pasts."

"It was about the disappearances in Plymoth."

"It's not just in Plymoth, but everywhere," the woman stated with a grave frown, "A curse is awakening. It's believed that blood will remove it. The blood of a goddess."

"I've seen a lot of things, but I've yet to encounter anything that convinces me that anything like gods and demons exist," the Doctor stated.

"Many would see you as a god, Lord of Time," the woman stated with a smirk.

"But they're wrong. I'm no god," he stated.

"You are immortal and eternal. You have seen more of the universe than anyone ever has or will have," the woman stated.

"But I can still die. I'm not immortal," he stated.

"You were supposed to, but you didn't."

"That was just cleverness on my part."

"We shall see who is wrong," she stated calmly, "there is nothing that I can tell you. Everything is in your hands, Timelord."

I watched as the Doctor looked solemn as he nodded to the elderly woman in respect as he stood and helped me up. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, giving me a worried look. I had spent most of the conversation wondering what her words for me meant. That I will die before my time but not alone. That had so many connotations to it. Did it meant that I would die literally before my time, as in in the past? Or that I would die young? Or did it mean both? There was a lot I didn't know at the time. But boy, did I know now what it meant.

Our guide met up with us again at the village gate, ready to take us back to Plymoth. My mind was still processing everything as I walked, trying to ignore the sorry state I was in. I could feel my pain killers wear off, making me wish that I still had them on hand. Had it really been six hours already? It started to hurt to move, making walking become a chore as pain spread throughout my right side with every step I made with my right leg. I stumbled, grabbing onto the Doctor in time.

"Are you okay, Olmstead?" he asked with a concerned look as he helped me back up.

"Just tripped on a root," I stated, knowing that we were in a forest and I'd rather be known as the girl who tripped on a root than the girl who tripped on a small little twig.

Although, I had done that before. But it was more than a little twig and had left a gash on my shin. That never fully recovered, leaving a scar where even hair never grew. Every time I'd shave my legs, I'd always see that pale scar from that summer, years ago.

"I didn't feel a root back there," he stated, his expression turning dark.

"Point is, I'm just fine. I promise," I stated defensively.

I must have been far too defensive at that statement because he clamped his hand on my forehead as we walked and frowned before dropping his hand to his side.

"Your fever's increasing," he stated seriously.

"Are you sure it isn't because we're hiking, Doctor?" I asked lightly.

"I'll check it when we get back to Plymoth. If I find that you are keeping anything related to your current state of health a secret from me, I will take you back home and leave you there," he stated with a serious tone.

"So my right side's killing me. Not literally, of course. Just a sharp pain when my left leg moves. Again, completely normal for what I'm going through," I stated lightly, "It'll pass."

"At this point, I can't be sure," he stated with a frown.

"So," I stated, wanting to deflect the conversation away from me, "any clue about all the stuff she told you? About your past meeting your present and stuff?"

"Back when I was the same as I was when we met, I was given two different prophecies. The first is that I'm not alone and the second is that I was going to die. After I was given the first prophecy, I came across an old enemy of mine called the Master, who was one of my people. He was later killed by the wife he had abused. The second prophecy I was given already happened. I died, but I regenerated, giving me this face and personality. I'm still the same man you had met in the hospital."

"Then it's kinda obvious that she's talking about the first prophecy. That you're not alone and perhaps it's someone else from your past," I stated with a hopeful look.

"I hope not," he stated with a frown, "the last time my people nearly broke free, they tried to end time itself."

"Yikes," I stated, "but I thought they were all dead."

"They're sealed outside of the normal flow of time. In a sense, they are," he stated.

"Well, if they're the kinda people who would try to destroy time itself, maybe it is for the best that they're imprisoned the way they are," I offered quietly.

"I don't know," he stated, the pain in his eyes quite clear to me as he looked away.

We walked the rest of the way to Plymoth in silence. I had nothing to say and I think he had enough on his mind.

When we entered Plymoth, the sun was going down and I was glad for a reprieve. My feet, I was sure, was covered in blisters and I was exhausted. Whether it was from all the walking, the fact that I was most likely awake longer than I was used to, or from dealing with my pain for so long, I didn't know. All I knew was that I was eager to sleep. We walked all they way back to the Governor's house with me feeling quite like I was already a member of the living dead. We didn't wait too long to see the Governor.

"What have you found, Doctor?" the Governor asked.

"It seems that people are being taken from all the settlements in the area," the Doctor stated.

"If that's the case, then that is a problem," the Governor stated with a frown.

"I'll see what I can find out during the night," the Doctor stated, "I fully intend to follow whatever it is to its lair."

"If that is the only course of action you have, then I wish you luck. If you need lodgings, you are welcome to sleep in the Common House," the Governor stated, "and I will make sure that the two of you will get a meal."

"Thank you," I stated as gratefully as I could while being as tired and exhausted as I felt as we were quite obviously dismissed.

"So where's the Common House?" I asked the Doctor, wanting to just crash and burn already.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"I'm more tired than hungry," I stated with a yawn as I stretched.

"It's this way," he said, leading me to the Common House and from there, we were led to a room full of beds.

All I remember was being shown to the room full of beds and collapsing on top of the closest one I could see that was empty, which the majority were. I was faintly aware of the blankets being pulled out from under me before they were covering me and I was completely unconscious, far from the pain I had kept hidden. All I was aware of was a near-complete sense of not feeling anything but being clammy and a bit too warm before I felt something grab me.

Whether it was physical weakness or from just being too tired to begin with, what kicking and fighting I did was ineffectual and I was aware of being greeted by darkness once again, my last thought before darkness overwhelmed me was the hope that the Doctor was going to save me.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Where a Goddess Breaks a Curse and Returns Home

The next thing I was aware of was that my whole body pounded in agony. My head felt like someone had used it for a base drum in a death metal concert, my stomach felt like it was one big knot while being a creature of total rage, my whole right side throbbed, my back felt like someone had played jump rope with it and my feet felt like they had been slow roasted over an open fire. In short, I was definitely not feeling my best. I was so far from my best that my best may as well be several galaxies away and barely in sight even if I were to use a consumer-grade telescope. It was in that moment that I knew I was not having a good day.

I opened my eyes, which turned out to be the worst thing I could do. Not only did it make my head feel worse, it may as well be advertising to all and sundry that I was awake and conscious and somehow ready to deal with whatever they wanted me for. Which, I was in no way, shape, or form, anything I wanted at that moment. What I did want was a prescription-strength pain killer and a can of Starbucks. Didn't matter what, as long as it had the Starbucks insignia on it. Nothing says 'I'm ready to take on the day' like overpriced caffeine.

"She is awake," I heard a male voice state as I heard a crowd make sounds of anticipation.

"Water," I stated groggily, hoping that water would wash away most of my pain.

"She demands water!" the male voice exclaimed, making my skull pound loudly.

"Water!" the crowd exclaimed, echoing like a group of children before suddenly stop.

"Here is your water," the male voice state gently as he handed me a skin full of water.

I sipped the water gently, feeling that my stomach wasn't going to accept more than a few sips every so often. My headache dissipated as I sipped the water, testing just how much was enough for my stomach to take. I was feeling better slowly, but nothing was helping my back or my right side. That I knew, was something unavoidable. But my headache was getting better and soon, I was able to at least sit up, look around, and hold a satisfactory conversation.

"What happened?" I asked the male, seeing that he looked much like a brave of some kind.

"We found you," he stated, "no one has ever been discarded. You must be powerful."

"Oh yeah," I stated sarcastically, "I'm an absolute goddess."

Apparently, these people really don't know the meaning of the word 'sarcasm' because their reaction took me by surprise.

"I knew it!" the brave exclaimed, not realizing that I was being sarcastic and not truthful, "We will be led to greatness!"

"Hold it before you lead us to ruin," an elderly man stated sourly, "I suggest that she prove it that she is indeed a goddess before we bow down and worship her."

"Very well," the brave stated to the elderly man with a nod before turning to me, "give us a sample of your power."

"I must first decide what would be a suitable power to show," I stated, "I will need to consider for a short while."

"Your powers must be great if you must consider which one to use," he stated as I ran my hands through the pockets of the pants I wore underneath my skirt, getting looks from the crowd.

I knew a yo-yo wasn't going to cut it. Neither were smoke bombs. The matches? Now that had some merit. If only I wasn't so nervous about using lighters. That would've worked well. But the matches were a possibility. My left hand hit the cargo pocket. I had a handheld gaming system that had a camera. My mind suddenly conjured up the knowledge that many Native Americans believed that cameras stole souls. And perhaps the fact that I used the gaming system as a music player would also help. I had the workings of a plan and I was running out of time. I grabbed my gaming system.

"Behold, I present you with this," I stated in my best show-woman's voice considering my sad state, "With this, I can steal your soul, show it to you, torment your soul, and let it return to you, if any of you are brave enough to challenge me!"

"I am brave enough," the elderly man stated, walking up to me.

"Very well. You volunteered, so this is on your shoulders," I stated as I unfolded the gaming system and entered the camera application and snapped a picture of the elderly guy, causing the gaming system to make a camera sound.

"Behold! His soul is here!" I exclaimed, showing all and sundry the screens which, indeed showed the picture of the elderly man, causing everyone to gasp at me and bow down.

"I did not know you truly had such a power," the elderly man stated apologetically, "please return my soul to me."

I erased the picture and revealed a blank upper screen and exclaimed, "It has been done!"

The crowd cheered as the brave exclaimed, "As shown by her power, she is indeed the most powerful and merciful goddess! We must feast in her honor!"

My stomach churned. Feast. Just the idea of food was making my wrathful stomach more unhappy. I was going to have to use what I knew to my benefit. After this, I knew I had more respect for those who came up with more elaborate plots than this off the top of their heads. I was just flailing around in comparison.

I smelled food cooking and my stomach churned more. Just what was going on with me? I usually was the kinda girl who was always hungry and at any time, can eat anyone's leftovers with gusto. But now? Now, just the smell of food was making me sick and I knew for a fact that I was definitely not pregnant. Which meant that I had new respect for another group of people – pregnant women. Before too long, I'd have new respect for everyone at this pace.

"What is wrong, Goddess?" the brave asked respectfully.

"This food...since I am a goddess, my body is ill-equipped for such things. I fear I will not be able to partake in the feast," I stated.

"I understand, my Goddess. This is not of your origin," he stated, "how shall we make it better for you."

"If you were to make a plate with a bit of everything on it and burn it, it will be sent to my realm and once I return there, I will be able to feast," I stated, leaning on my knowledge of theology and myth.

"Very well. It will be done as you say," he stated respectfully.

In the end, I wound up watching the feast and festival happen around me, feeling a bit disconnected. I knew that my condition was indeed worsening, but I couldn't exactly go home since I wasn't exactly with the Doctor. But I knew that the first thing I wanted once this whole mess was done was that I'd want to go to the hospital in my era. Just the fact that I lacked an appetite at all worried me and the fact that I couldn't breathe deeply scared me. Not being able to walk without extreme agony was the cherry on that cake that I wish I never had and would never inflict on even my worst enemy.

"Excuse me," I heard a familiar voice call out over the din as he walked into view and I smiled, "may I approach?"

The entire ruckus of the festivities stopped as everyone turned to me, clearly telling me that I was in charge. I had never been in charge of anything. This was a change for me, clearly a step up.

"You may," I stated evenly.

"Who is this man?" the brave asked.

"One who is more powerful than I am," I stated, "and my friend."

I could see on his face that he realized just what was going on. His expression quickly changed almost too fast for me to see before resting on amusement. He was amused that I managed to convince a tribe that I was some kind of Goddess.

"I am sorry," the brave said, grovelling to the Doctor.

"It's completely okay," he stated with a kind expression.

"It is time that I am led to where I was found," I stated, looking at the brave.

"Of course, my Goddess," he stated with a low bow as I achingly stood up.

The Doctor had reached me at that point and assisted me as we approached the brave who was playing the part of a guide. We remained quiet as I remembered what the old woman had told me the day before. That there was a curse in play that will require the blood of a goddess. Did that have anything to do with the whole my dying thing? I was scared about it, but I knew that I had other things that was pressing on my mind. The Doctor clearly was able to tell by now that my condition was worsening and we were too far to turn back. He said as much in the look he gave me.

I was relieved that the hike was short and led us to what looked like a cave. Whether this was a good thing or not, I didn't know. The brave stopped us at the mouth and said, "this was where you were found, my lady."

"Thank you," I told him, "you may leave now. This is a matter for those greater than you."

He gave me one last bow before running off, obviously scared of the place. I saw the look the Doctor gave me.

"What? I was playing it all up to avoid suspicion," I stated defensively.

"I'm just curious how you managed to get yourself to be worshiped as a Goddess," he stated as he led the two of us deeper into the cave.

"It started as a sarcastic remark. Then I had to find something to back up my story and then I found my DS. Used its camera to make them believe I can toy with their souls," I stated.

"Even if I do applaud your creativity, I hope that you're not going to be a goddess wherever we go," he stated with a smirk.

"Even I know I'm no goddess, but that wise old woman certainly thought you were at least god-like," I stated.

"An exaggeration," he stated as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area and then looking at the device before he started to grin, "just what I thought. A perception filter. There's something in this cave that someone wants to hide."

"Shouldn't we be heading back first?"

"One, the wise old woman made a mention that it'll take the blood of a goddess to solve this problem, which by now, I think she was talking about you. Two, if I need to, I can have the TARDIS materialize nearby."

"Just that you said you would take me home if my condition worsens," I stated.

"Do you know if your condition is immediately threatening your life?"

"Not immediately if I stay hydrated," I stated.

"Then we're fine. I think," he stated.

"Gone too far to stop now, huh?" I asked.

"Of course," he stated as he radiated excitement, "who knows what it is that whoever it is doesn't want us to find."

"And I'm sure I can still run if my life depended on it," I stated quietly as he led us to a far wall in the cave which rippled in response to the sonic screwdriver.

I followed him as he walked through where the wall rippled as I saw smooth metal walls and bright overhead lights. The corridor curved gently at intersections rather than having sharp turns, almost like it was crafted without any sharp angles. I kept my footfalls as silent as I could as I crept behind the Doctor, who was clearly trying to be quiet about things. We quickly found ourselves in trouble, though. The shape our trouble took was that of a door.

"Let's see what we can find on the other side of this," I heard the Doctor say as he used his sonic screwdriver in an attempt to open the door.

"Doctor?" I called out as I had decided to play lookout and was staring at an alien that looked almost identical to the first kind of alien I had seen that wasn't the Doctor.

"I'm busy," he stated as he stopped to fiddle with the settings.

"Doctor," I stated more seriously as they lowered their weapons at us.

"What?" he almost snapped, turning to face me, and in extension, those who were pointing their guns at us.

"We're in trouble," I stated.

"Yes, I can see that," he replied as he raised his hands in the position of surrender as I did the same.

"You will follow," the alien security leader stated, leading us through the ship.

It was yet another short walk until we found ourselves in what looked to be the bridge and we were made to stand before their leader. It was obviously female, still a mix of feline and reptilian as she glared at us angrily.

"Are you behind the disappearances in the local human settlements?" the Doctor asked.

"Of course we are," she stated, "the people will be returned to their people once we are done with them."

"When will that be?" I asked with a frown, "and will they even be alive?"

"They will be returned alive and well when the repairs are finished and after their minds have been turned back to normal," the woman stated.

"You took them and are using them as a labor force," I stated with a frown.

"Temporarily, yes. The crash caused us to loose a great deal of my crew. Besides, I'm aware that a whole settlement of the humans have recently died due to a contagion that they couldn't fight. We wish to obtain a blood sample to assist them against this contagion."

"As much as I'd hate to admit it, but you can't. I'm from a future that resulted from them not having a defense against the various illnesses that the Europeans brought with them. Because of that, you can't change the future," I stated.

"And what makes you in charge of what we may do?"

"I'm not in charge of enforcing the timeline," I stated simply.

"Then who is?"

"I am. I'm the Doctor, the last of the Time Lords. It is my duty to protect time from being altered from the course it needs to go. If you do give the Native Americans the chance to resist the various contagions, your actions can alter the universe itself in a very real way and not in a way you want it to be altered."

The leader seemed to pause, obviously taken aback by the Doctor's words. She looked at him seriously for several long moments before letting out a sigh.

"I have heard of your people," she stated with a frown, "so I will do as you say. I will not give the natives the chance to survive. Since we have your friend's blood sample in storage anyways, we will keep that to us and research it ourselves. You may leave.

Once we were out of the cave, I turned to the Doctor.

"Mind getting the TARDIS to materialize here? I don't think I can walk all the way out there," I stated with a frown before he placed his hand against my forehead with a frown.

"Your fever's worse," he stated with a frown as my sight grew bleary and dim.

"Let's see if we can sit you down," he stated, guiding me into a sitting position on the grass before I completely lost consciousness.

I was vaguely aware of hearing the sounds the TARDIS makes when it's traveling and being carried around. The next thing I was fully aware of was waking up in a hospital bed with an itch on the back of my left hand. I went to scratch it, but felt tape. I was then more aware of something stiff being attached to my left pointer finger and that I was on oxygen. I opened my eyes, seeing a group of people I wasn't familiar with.

"I see you're awake," an elder man stated with a smile, "you were unconscious when you were brought in two days ago and you had to have your gall bladder removed."

"Oh, that's good," I stated with a smile, feeling the familiar feeling of being drugged up into oblivion, "so did you have to remove it by cutting it up or-?"

"Actually, it can fit between the ribs," he stated.

"Oh. I didn't know that. I take it that the surgery was a success?" I asked.

"I doubt that you'll have any complications," he stated with a smile, "and this is your nurse."

"Nice to meet you, Melissa, I'm Holly," the woman who looked about my age stated.

"Hey," I stated right back, unable to think of anything to say before I passed out again, but this time, because of the medications rather than because of anything wrong with my body.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Reflections of the Past

I found myself dreaming that I was five years old. My parents and I had already moved into the house that we had been assisting with remodeling as part of some program. It was summer time and I was getting tired of everything. I wanted to escape. Every day had become the same. I'd wake up and my dad made me breakfast before he went to bed because he had the night shift. Then, I'd have to stay indoors until he woke up, usually I spent that time playing what everyone in the house called "the Atari" and I'd play Space Invaders on it and similar games. I didn't have very many games for it and most of them were really difficult, if completely nonsensical. Then from noon until around three, I was free to play outside with the neighbor kids. Only one kid was willing to play with me, but that was okay. Then I had to go back inside to my room to protect me from the coming disaster. After I would play in my bedroom for a while, the door would slam open and closed and it would start.

I would hear mom screaming at my dad. It didn't matter what since it changed on a daily basis but the general themes I picked up was that she was angry and it usually had to do with money or her job. Or something her co-workers had done. She would always pick a fight with dad and lose and would take it out on me. Then dad would cook dinner and we would have a quiet, if not tense, dinner and then mom would want me to play outside under her constant, ever-watchful eye. And then I'd spend the rest of the time I had in my room until it was bath time and then it was bed time.

The only real difference to each day was if one or both of my parents had a day off. Then what freedom I had was gone if my mom had a day off, demanding that I spend time with her. Or more freedom if it was my dad who had a day off, allowing me to play with my only friend in the neighborhood.

But there was a night that always came during the summer that I enjoyed. It was the yearly block party. It was a huge barbecue where everyone who lived on the block was invited and would mingle and have fun. The kids would all be playing together, regardless if they liked each other and I always had fun in the competitions. But in my dream, something was off. Something happened that really did not happen.

I was aware that there was a duplex on the block that was constantly being rented out. No one really stayed in it for very long. I remember it being empty that summer. However, I noticed that the "for rent" sign was absent and my parents and I were being introduced to the man who was renting it out.

I remembered him from when the girls had forced me out of my own playhouse. He had been the one to play with me to make the girls jealous. Apparently, my dad remembered him as well.

"Mr. Smith, how have you been?" my dad asked.

"You know him?" my mom asked my dad.

"He was working on the house as a volunteer. He helped Lisa here when the girls were being mean to her and had given her that black eye," my dad explained.

"That was me," he stated with a smile before bending down to look at me in the eye, "and hello Lisa. Do you remember me?"

I nodded, feeling uncomfortable, mostly because of my mom. She could make anything feel like torture, no matter if it was supposed to be fun or not. Still, he smiled down at me politely, almost like he was one big kid himself.

"She doesn't talk much lately," my dad said apologetically.

"I'm sure she'll be talking our ears off before too long," the familiar man stated with a smile, straightening up to speak to my dad properly.

"I'm sure she will," my mom stated, pulling my dad and I away from the man I knew was nice.

"What's wrong?" I heard my dad ask.

"I don't like him," I heard my mom reply, "we need to keep him away from us."

"I'm sure he's fine," my dad say, "there's nothing he can do here. Relax."

"I just don't like this," she stated.

"You just don't like people," my dad say as I noticed that my hands weren't being held and I, feeling uncomfortable, wandered off where I can be more comfortable.

I wandered over to the group of kids, wanting to play with people my own age. Well, at least putting in a good second attempt at it.

"Can I please play with you?" I asked politely.

"No, get lost, fatty," the kid I asked said, clearly being mean about it.

Saddened, I went to another group. I asked the same thing in the same way and got a kick in the shin for my trouble. Being so young, I screamed and cried in pain, getting the adults' attention. The one to come to my help was the parent of the one who kicked me.

"What happened?" a man I was familiar with but didn't know his name asked.

"I asked if I could play and he kicked me!" I exclaimed, fighting tears long enough to tell the adult.

"Is this true?" the parent asked his son.

"Yes, but she's fat and ugly and a girl!" the boy exclaimed.

"If you can't behave, go sit with your mom for the whole night," the father of the boy told his son who wailed.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked me.

"I think so," I told the father of the kid before limping around, looking for something to do.

I wound up grabbing a cup of punch and sat in a lawn chair that was sat out for people to sit in and drank punch while feeling bored and excluded. I wished that someone would hang out with me and play with me. In the memories I had of the time, I had spent the whole time between the kicked shin and the competitions drinking punch by myself. But that wasn't what happened.

"That's a nice bruise forming there," I heard Mr. Smith say.

"Uh-huh," I stated as I sipped the cool punch.

"Let me guess, you didn't do anything wrong again?"

"Yep."

"That's not good," he stated before asking, "bored?"

"Yeah," I stated as I turned to him, seeing him grin widely before he tapped my shoulder lightly.

"Tag. You're it," he stated before running off.

I sat my cup down on the ground before running off after the giant-like adult. I knew he was taking it easy on me, eventually slowing to what would be a fast walk for him before I tagged him. I ran off once I tagged him before I realized that he was including another of the kids into our game. It went on like this until all of the neighborhood kids were involved in our game of tag except for the one who had kicked me in the shin. The epic game of tag ended with all of us kids deciding on our own that we were going to all team up against the biggest kid of all who had started the game.

"Competition time!" came the shout by the one in charge of the event, "the first competition will be the wheelbarrow race!"

The one in charge of the event ran through a list- making all kids be the wheelbarrows and the adults involved the ones to "push" the wheelbarrows. Somehow, I was teamed up with Mr. Smith. Knowing how it went, I got on the ground and my feet were picked up.

"Three!" the leader shouted and I prepared my arms, bending my right elbow more.

"Two!" the leader shouted and I lifted my left arm, putting all my weight on my right hand.

Then came the whistle and I moved my arms as fast as I can, hoping that I was keeping up and not slowing us down too much as I saw everyone else going much faster. When we crossed the finish line, I felt winded as I stood back up.

"That was fun!" I exclaimed with a grin.

I woke up at that point and looked at the clock. I was still in the hospital bed and the TV was still on. The clock said that I had been asleep for six hours as I could feel my right side erupt in pain. I pressed the nurse call button and I only had to wait until the commercial break was over for my nurse to show up.

"You fell asleep before I told you how everything worked," she stated lightly.

"Sorry," I said with an apologetic smile.

"This," she said, showing me something made to be gripped with a button on the top, "is for your morphine pump. You press the button when you're in pain and it'll send morphine through your IV. You can only use the button once every ten minutes unless it's given by a nurse. I assume that you just woke up."

"Yeah," I stated, nodding the whole time as she spoke.

She turned to the machine and pressed a few buttons, causing it to beep before saying, "I gave you a double dose. It shouldn't take too long for it to hit you. Is there anything else?"

"I am kinda hungry," I admitted.

"Dr. Haywood has you on a liquid diet," she said, moving a table that was clearly made to move over the bed, "just call the kitchen and they'll help you decide."

"Thanks," I stated as she left and I went through the stuff on the table as I felt my head spin from the morphine just starting to hit me.

I perused the menu, thinking of what to get when I heard someone knock once on my door and enter. I turned my head to see a familiar face walk deeper into my hospital room. He was smiling at me with his hands in his pockets, his pace relaxed. However, there was something different about him this time around. A weariness, perhaps. Something was bothering him.

"I hear you're doing a lot better," he stated lightly.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I at least don't have that fever anymore," I stated with a smile, "I'm about to order my dinner."

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," he stated, almost stepping back.

"I'd rather you did. I don't like the idea of spending the whole who knows how long alone in a hospital room," I stated with a smile.

I watched him as he slowly moved to a chair and sat down on it, watching the various machines. He seemed pretty uncomfortable and wary of everything. I wondered why, but I didn't ask. If he wanted me to know, he'd talk about it.

"So when was it removed?" he asked, cautiously as if he didn't know how to phrase the question.

"Earlier today, I think. All I know was that I passed out on you and then I woke up after the operation. Apparently, it went well. All I know is that I'm actually hungry for once," I stated, perusing the menu, sounding gleeful that I could eat again.

I saw him look away, as if there was something that bothered him. If anything, he looked guilty before he spoke again.

"I have a question for you," he said quietly as he looked at me, completely serious.

I knew how uncommon it could be for his current self to be serious just from what I knew about him, so I closed the menu and looked at him, giving him my full attention as I lifted my eyebrows at him. If it was something serious, I wanted to give it my full attention so I can give him the most accurate response as I could.

"Let's say you wind up getting upset with someone and tell them that you hate them..." he started as I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger of my right hand.

"Let me get this straight. You're from the future and I wind up being completely mad at you and I told you that I hated you and probably that I wanted you out of my life, right?" I asked with a frown.

"Those words exactly," he stated, almost surprised.

"Did you apologize?" I asked, "and I mean seriously apologize?"

"Is there any other kind of apology?"

"Several. But rather than running the risk of learning what you did to set me off, I'll say this. Anything I said most likely was because you did something that hurt me. Considering there's really three things anyone could do to hurt me in any way, I assume that the one you'd most likely do is lie to me, which is something that is no way a hate-able offense. It'll hurt like hell, but really, in the end, once I calm down, I'll prolly feel worse than you do about the whole telling you that I hated you."

"So you don't hate me?" he asked, brightening up.

"Listen, it takes a lot for me to hate a given person. What it takes is enough abuse and then I hate them. You're not the kind of person that would abuse anyone. You're obviously too kind for that. Which meant you just got me really mad to make me explode, which means that after about an hour or two, I'll go through the emotional rebound."

"Which is?" he asked, almost as if he was taking notes.

"With me, whenever I get angry, my emotions rebound to depression. I become depressed that I showed anger and I temporarily become just a teensy bit unstable. It doesn't take much for me to stabilize and return to my normal emotional state."

"And I thought all girls' emotional states were complicated," he muttered.

"It's not too complicated," I stated, "I just don't like showing 'em."

He let out a sigh and nodded before saying, "I know."

"So have you messed with my past recently?" I asked, grabbing the menu to peruse it again.

"Only twice. Since the incident," he stated.

"And one of those times were when I was five and about to get into first grade," I stated.

"The rest hasn't caught up with you then," he stated.

"Of course, because you didn't move out until much later after the block party," I stated without thinking before frowning and adding, "this is really awkward."

"You'll get used to it," he stated before asking, "are you going to be okay?"

"I think you know that more than I do," I stated with a smirk.

"Well, I just thought to ask since you did just-"

"I'm fine, Doctor," I stated, interrupting his clearly uncomfortable babbling, "and I appreciate the sentiment. Not a lot of people care enough to ask now days."

"I know," he said with a frown, "you told me about it."

"I think perhaps, this could be a problem having you drop hints of conversations yet to happen."

"Right. Well, get well soon, I think is the proper phrase," he stated before walking out.

I rang the kitchen, winding up with a dinner that consisted of applesauce, yogurt, cherry-flavored Jello (which made me wish they had grape), chocolate pudding, chocolate ice cream, and peppermint tea. I ate my dinner with glee, feeling my stomach settle and take in all the food. I smiled to myself as I relaxed with my tea and watched some Mythbusters. I set the tea aside and found myself being dragged back to sleep.

It was months after the block party and my dad no longer had his night-shift job. Which meant that I was free during most of the day except for lunch time and when I had to be home in time for mom to never know that I was out. However, I grew exhausted of the abuse I suffered at my mom's hand. It was past lunch that day and I was in my bedroom. I studied the atlas I had. I was planning a trip that would take me anywhere that wasn't home. I couldn't take it anymore. I was what caused mom and dad fight so much. I was convinced that if I wasn't around, they would be happy. I knew that it was either that I left and lived elsewhere, or I would have to leave in a way that meant that I wasn't going to live. I steeled my courage. I knew I would miss dad, but I couldn't take it being the cause of all of the fighting.

I closed the atlas and walked downstairs. I already had my shoes on and I smiled at my dad as I always had.

"I'm gonna go on my bike," I said.

"Okay. You know how far you can go and keep an ear out for me, okay?" he asked.

"Yes, dad," I said with a smile before I ran outside and out to the back yard where my bike was.

It was still big enough for me and was pink with white training wheels. Everyone else was able to ride bikes without training wheels but I didn't. I couldn't. I wasn't perfect enough. I was too flawed to be able to do anything that everyone else my age did and did well. It was why I had to leave. I wasn't perfect enough.

I pushed my bike to the sidewalk and pedaled. I went past the next door neighbor's house. I kept pedaling. I was then passing the second house from where I lived, coming up to the large driveway that I was supposed to turn around at. I kept pedaling. I passed the two houses that belonged to the kind elderly ladies I always enjoyed saying hi to. They were always kind to me. And then came the duplex. And I stopped.

I wasn't planning to stop. It wasn't in my plan. But I stopped anyways. The bike jerked and I turned around to see what stopped me, looking over my left side, seeing Mr. Smith. He was usually smiling each time I've seen him, but this time, he looked serious.

"You aren't supposed to go this far from home," he stated calmly.

"I can't stay there," I told him quietly.

I saw him look down the street where I had come before looking at me, saying, "how about we talk about this over milk and cookies on my porch?"

"Okay," I nodded, knowing that he wasn't exactly a stranger and he seemed to be perfectly harmless. He was fun anyways.

I left my bike in his driveway before meeting him on his porch. He didn't take long to bring out the cups, the gallon of milk, and the Oreos. He had good taste. I sat myself down on one of the chairs he left out on his patio-like porch as he arranged everything on the table between us.

"So you're trying to run away from home," he stated as I ate a mostly soaked Oreo.

"Yep," I said around my cookie.

"Why?" he asked.

"I cause mommy and daddy to fight. I'm a mistake. Not perfect enough. If I was perfect, they'd be happy. So I'm leaving. They can be happy now that I'm gone," I stated between bites and sips of milk.

"Who said that you're a mistake?" he asked after eating a cookie.

"Mommy. She also says that it's my fault," I stated, not wanting to eat cookies anymore and looking away from Mr. Smith.

"What does she say is your fault?"

"Everything. Everything bad. My birth. That money's so tight. That she's not happy. I cause so many horrible things and I'm not aware of it," I said, fighting sobs but wanting to be strong.

"She's wrong," he stated.

"She's mommy. She's always right," I stated quietly, "and it's all my fault."

"I think it's best if we take you back to your home. I promise you that things will change," he stated.

"You think so?" I asked.

"I know so. Get on your bike and I'll walk you home," he stated with a grin.

"I'll race ya!" I exclaimed, running to my bike and speeding down his driveway backward and turning sharply onto the sidewalk and using that momentum to go down the sidewalk.

I didn't look behind me but considering how long it took Mr. Smith to catch up, I quickly knew that he wasn't running behind me in earnest and let me win the race. I left my bike on its side in the front yard and ran up to the steps and opened the door.

"Dad! Mr. Smith is wanting to talk to you," I called into the living room, seeing that my dad was in his recliner and had been watching a movie which he stopped.

"Okay," he stated with a smile, "and thank you for letting me know."

"I'm putting my bike up," I stated.

"This early?" he asked.

"I kinda...went out of bounds," I stated, giving him my best attempt at a grin while knowing that I was in trouble.

"How far did you go?" he asked with a sigh.

"Mr. Smith stopped me at his house. He gave me milk and cookies and sent me back home," I stated.

"Did you thank him?" he asked as Mr. Smith walked up to the porch.

"I will," I stated.

"Go thank him and put your bike up for the day," dad told me.

I turned to face Mr. Smith and said, "thanks for the milk and cookies."

"Don't mention it," he replied, ruffling my hair with a smile as I ran off.

I grabbed my bike and pushed it into the back yard, knowing that once Mr. Smith was gone, I was going to be in bigger trouble than normal. But still, I wanted to know what the adults were talking about. Perhaps if I did it really fast and rushed to my room, I could hear what they were talking about. I pushed my bike into the backyard as quickly as I could before running inside, excusing myself as I ran around Mr. Smith and up the stairs.

"I can't help it," I heard my dad say as I stood at the railing next to the stairs, "her mom...she's got a lot of things to deal with and she gets stressed."

"That doesn't excuse anything. It's getting to Lisa and who knows what the effect could be. She believes the things her mother's telling her which can't be good," I heard Mr. Smith say.

"I know. I...I'm not ready for my family to fall apart yet. I think things are still salvageable," I heard my dad say, "even with her flaws, I still love my wife."

"You need to consider Lisa in this," I heard Mr. Smith say, "if this continues, she could wind up with low self-esteem and who knows what else. It can't be healthy for a girl her age to be blaming herself for things she has no control over. She's a very sensitive and caring little girl."

"But if her mother leaves her life, it could devastate her," I heard my dad say, "and that's really the worst that could happen."

"I'm just concerned with her attempt today," Mr. Smith stated, "who knows what else she could try in an attempt to do what she feels will make everyone happier."

"What's your stake in this, Mr. Smith?" I heard my dad ask.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Mr. Smith stated.

"Try me," I heard my dad say.

"I'm a time traveler. I travel through time and in my travels, I've wound up meeting your daughter Lisa as an adult. As much of a wonderful person she is, she is deeply affected by what her mother had done to her. I came back through time to help her out and to try to avert the worst of the damage if I can," I heard Mr. Smith say.

"Assuming that you have a time machine, can you show it to me?" my dad asked.

"I can," I heard Mr. Smith say as I heard a grinding noise outside.

I heard the door close and I ran to my window, seeing a blue box with Mr. Smith opening the door to it. I watched as my dad looked at it in wonder as Mr. Smith walked into it. The angle I had didn't show me much other than a ramp leading in. I watched as my dad cautiously entered the blue box before the door opened and the grinding sound happened again as the light on top glowed in time with the sound before the box faded out of existence.

I freaked out. What happened to the blue box that had dad and Mr. Smith? Were they okay? The sound happened again. It sounded far away before the grinding sound grew louder. I ran back to my window and saw that nothing had changed. A few minutes later, my dad and Mr. Smith were walking down the street, talking as if they were old friends. What had just happened?

The next thing I knew, the light turned on, making me flinch which made my right side blossom in pain. I grabbed the handle to the morphine pump and hit the button hard.

"I'm sorry," I heard the voice that belonged to my night-shift nurse.

"It's okay," I muttered groggily as she checked the machines and put a blood pressure cuff on my left arm.

"I need this to go under your tongue."

I opened my mouth for the thermometer, getting used to the routine that happened every six to four hours depending if it was night time or day. Which meant that it was probably one in the morning and in five or so hours, someone else was going to wake me up for the same thing. I was vaguely aware of being put through the routine while I was mostly unconscious before the operation, but nothing more. I knew I was in bad shape when the Doctor had brought me here.

The thermometer beeped after I felt all circulation to my left hand be cut off and the machines beeping in response to the lack of circulation. I had a personal vendetta against the dreaded blood pressure cuff. There had to be a better way to check for blood pressure that didn't involve cutting off one's circulation. The thermometer was removed as I felt my circulation return to my left hand and the beeping subsided. I knew that I was back asleep by the time the nurse left.

I dreamed of something else other than the past. It was fractured at best. The best I managed to piece together was escaping the hospital with the help of the Doctor and turning up on a planet of sentient carnivorous chickens and running for our lives and managing to save our lives by having the biggest barbecue the universe had ever seen. Apparently, the chickens were satisfied by our promise of making their own kind taste much better than we'd ever taste to them. And we had succeeded. It was one odd dream.

I woke up that morning by the surgeon who had operated on me, Dr. Haywood. Apparently, he was some kind of morning bird, walking into my room at six sharp. The lights turned on, making me flinch and I felt like I was reliving the nurse's wake-up call at midnight as I hit the button for my morphine pump.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he checked the readings on the O2 machine which also read my heart rate.

"Like I can eat a whole turkey," I stated, "and I'm really tender."

"That's to be expected. I'll get it in the system that you can go on a general diet," he stated, "and I'm putting you on pain pills. They should stay in your system longer than the morphine does. It should be better for you that way. I'm going to check your drainage pump now."

I made a show of covering my eyes. After all, who knows what kind of horror flick my whole right side may look like, let alone the fluid that had collected since my operation.

"So what is the drainage pump?" I asked.

"Since you're an inpatient, you got a temporary one that collects leftover fluids from your surgery. Since this is usually an outpatient surgery, it's not used, so consider it further insurance," he stated as I heard liquid being squirted out of something and into what sounded like a plastic container, "and the fluids usually collected is blood so it's not too bad. Yours actually looks pretty good."

"Well, that's good," I stated.

"You should be fine to leave tomorrow," he stated before adding, "that is if you can do three walks for me today."

"I'll try. I don't feel that walking is going to be easy," I stated.

"It never is after that kind of surgery, but I know you'll do fine," the surgeon stated before leaving.

I felt awake enough to peruse the menu for breakfast, knowing it wouldn't probably be until lunch that I'd be in the system saying I could eat solid foods again. There really wasn't much I wanted on the breakfast menu but I was hungry enough. I heard footsteps enter my room again and I was expecting it to be my nurse checking in with me. Instead, I saw two people. One I wasn't really all that surprised to see and another that I swore I was dreaming or seeing a ghost.

"Good morning, Olmstead," the Doctor said almost giddy as he led who I swore looked to be my dad into the hospital room.

"Morning, Doctor. If I hadn't known you were behind this, I would've thought that I was seeing-"

"Now, now, Olmstead. You know the rules about time. Mostly the whole not giving hints about events yet to happen," the Doctor stated, cutting me off.

"Lisa?" my dad, how I had remembered him appearing when I was a little girl, asked.

"Yeah, it's me, dad," I told him moments before he hugged me and I would've made more happy sounds if it wasn't for the fact that I had one day old wounds that were either sealed with stitches or whatever the surgeon had used to seal them up with.

"Are you okay?" my dad asked as I pressed the button for the morphine pump.

"I was in surgery yesterday," I stated with a frown.

"I'm so sorry," my dad said apologetically.

"It's okay," I stated, trying to reassure him.

"What kind of surgery?"

"My gall bladder had to go," I stated, "looks like I got mom's gall bladder, huh?"

"I hope that's all you got from her," my dad said, apologetically, before saying, "I'm really sorry for the stuff that your mom had put you through."

"I know," I stated with a smile, "there's a lot I'd like to tell you but I just can't. But there are a few things I've always wanted to ask but I never got the chance."

"Why can't you ask me? I mean the me in your time," My dad said.

I gave a look at the Doctor, who shrugged.

"I'm...dead, aren't I?" my dad asked with a sad look, "that's why I'm not in this room with you to begin with."

"Yeah," I stated with a frown, "I couldn't keep it from you."

"Can we talk about anything other than death?" the Doctor asked, "Like life. Life's a good topic of discussion."

"So what are you doing with your life now days?" my dad asked.

"I'm going through college. Third quarter in a six quarter program. Halfway there and I can't wait to be free," I stated with a smile, "and I'm doing it all with grants."

"That's good. You don't need debts to follow you around," my dad stated.

"Yeah. I learned better," I stated with a smile.

"So what is it that you wanted to ask me?" he asked, sitting down on the chair next to my bed.

"You told me that my mom's dad is who caused my mom to be the way she was but you only told me that you'd tell me when I'm older," I stated.

"Your grandfather did to her exactly what she did to you," my dad said quietly, "I hope that she'll snap out of it and notice that she had become her father... that she would be better than him and give you a better life...like I've done my best to do."

"She isn't strong like you are, dad," I stated, fighting tears, "and I know that I won't continue the chain of abuse either. It's really unlikely that I'll give you grandkids. I'm just not as comfortable around kids as you are, dad. I never will be."

"It's okay, Lisa. I love you anyways," he stated before turning to the Doctor, "I think I'm ready to go home now."

"I love you too dad," I stated before the two men could leave my hospital room.

I spent a few hours flipping through the channels on cable as I hugged the pillow I had been given to hold against my side to keep pressure on everything. I was sure that it was waterlogged within the first twenty minutes. Just seeing my dad as the man full of life as he had once been when I was a little girl felt like an emotional wound had been inflicted on me just as severe as all of my current physical wounds. But I couldn't mope in bed all day. My surgeon had wanted me to go on walks and I was going to do just that. I pressed the nurse call button and waited.

I didn't wait too long for my morning nurse to walk in with a smile. I smiled back, feeling better after the shock to my system from earlier. I was going to have to do something the next time I see the Doctor and I knew for a fact that it was going to happen eventually. After all, there was still the mess at the college that needed to be done.

"Yes?" the nurse asked.

"Dr. Haywood wants me to do three walks, so I want to get my first one done," I stated before adding, "and I'd like to be able to not flash everyone I walk past."

"That's an easy problem to solve," she stated, holding up a second gown, "we'll just have this one covering your back."

"Good plan," I stated as I shrugged into it the best I could as the nurse moved the machines connected to my O2 meter so I could lean on it while she gave me one last dose of morphine before temporarily disconnecting the morphine pump as I got myself into a sitting position.

"Did I show up at the wrong time?" I heard a familiar voice ask.

I'd say 'speak of the devil' but I had only thought that I'd be seeing him eventually. I wondered just where this incident fell on his own timeline. Of course, time travelers, especially one known as the Doctor, were clearly a lot who avoided anything linear whenever possible. I was definitely wondering if he was allergic to linearity. I pushed that thread aside as I wondered which I wanted to do. I knew that I wanted to hit him for playing with my past as much as he had been, but I wanted to hug him because I understood that he was trying to help me while also doing what he believed was in my best interest. Of course, I couldn't do as much while in view of the nurses. Or anyone else for that matter and I was sure that hugging wasn't going to be anything my wounds were going to allow me to do.

"I'm just going on a walk around the floor," I stated, fully prepared for the walk but had yet to get into a standing position.

"Would you like to help her?" the nurse asked, "all you have to do is keep her from falling."

"Sounds easy enough," the Doctor stated lightly, shooting me a smirk as the nurse left.

"You're lucky that I'm not healed enough to do what I was planning to do once I saw you again," I stated lightly as I gathered my strength to stand for the first time since my operation.

"Here," he said, offering his hand.

I grabbed onto his hand and used it to help myself into what I felt was barely a passing resemblance to a standing position. I was hunched over, leaning to my left and I felt like I was either going to die from the pain of it or that I was going to crumble to the floor. I felt that I was being kept in my standing position by the hand I held on to as I bit back cries of pain.

"Let's get going," I said, grabbing the wheeled machines connected to my O2 meter and using it as a second crutch to keep me standing.

"Are you sure?" he asked, clearly concerned.

"My surgeon wanted me to go on three walks and I'm not going to ignore what he says I should do," I stated, hearing the pain in my own voice as I inched towards the door like a half-paralyzed slug, "and the sooner it gets done, the better."

We walked in mostly silence. Why I said mostly silence was that I couldn't keep all my pained sounds to myself. I know I whimpered a lot and whined, even to my own chagrin. To my own ears, I sounded like a big baby. I was stronger than this. I knew that it took more than just a little surgery to turn me into a big, whimpering child. I took the smaller loop, feeling like I couldn't take the longer one yet as I swore I walked like I should be in the geriatric ward rather than the surgery ward.

"You're doing good," he said in way of encouragement.

"Yeah, good enough to run last in a geriatric race," I muttered sarcastically, bitterness evident in my tone.

"You'll be back to normal in no time at all," he stated.

"Yeah, to you," I muttered, "just how long has it been for you since you dropped me off?"

"A day or so?" he replied, sounding not entirely sure himself, "but everything's settled at college. You should watch the news."

I glanced at him by the grin he wore on his face as he told me that bit about seeing the news before I sighed in resignation. It was times just like this that I was entirely convinced that he was just one big kid. Then I wondered if he traveled with others just because he needed babysitters for himself. It was a train of thought that led to entertaining mental images.

"So you were just checking on me to say good-bye until next time, huh?" I asked, frowning as I felt just a little sad, knowing that it could be decades until I would see him again.

"You're in no shape to go on adventures yet," he stated evenly.

"Well, duh. I did just went through surgery yesterday. I just felt that it seemed that you were leaving my life for an uncertain amount of time," I stated, "I mean, you cleaned up the mess at the college which was entirely why we had bumped into each other this second time."

"I thought that since we're friends and all, that once you're healed, you can go back to traveling with me," he stated, his voice almost sounding hopeful.

"And what was that about my being so likely to be a murdering lunatic?" I asked him, giving him a glance.

"Even if that had been the case years ago, you may have gotten past that," he stated.

"I felt that I had been pushed to my limits and I didn't see a third option. Sides, with me being that unhinged, I'm sure that was why they up and decided to leave rather than testing just how unhinged I really was at that point," I stated with a frown as we had reached my hospital room and I collapsed on my bed, exhausted from the effort that was a small walk.

"And I know that," he stated as I pressed the nurse call button to get a nurse to help me get myself situated back on the bed.

"So it's settled then," I stated, getting him to nod at me.

"I'll be checking in on you in a few weeks to see how you're doing," he stated.

"By then, I'll prolly be at my apartment," I stated.

"I know," he stated before he left in time to avoid the nurse who helped me back into my bed and reconnect me to my oxygen and the morphine pump.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Returning to the TARDIS

I felt exhausted the second Monday after my surgery. The tape that was supposed to remain had the issue of its stickiness giving up, making me ponder if I would need to reinforce the tape with first aid tape. I had a whole week's worth of homework to deal with while trying to keep up in class. I felt overwhelmed and a bit panicked. And all through this, the holes the surgeon had made in me for the scopes had started to itch and the three-inch gash on my belly felt odd, making me sure that they had used stitches on that judging by the stiffness.

I downed my second can of overpriced caffeine as I did all I could to focus on what needed to be done, which had been hastily scribbled in a notebook in the form of a checklist. I had a presentation due the next week, I had a Linux script due the previous week, and I had to code a form for another class on top of having to deal with jQuery for my final project. My brain had enough going on that I could feel it inching towards exploding. Or maybe it was an aneurism forming. It was hard to tell sometimes.

With all of this stress, imagine my frustration when I heard a knock on my door. The first thought that ran through my head was that I hadn't ordered delivery. I knew that I was too poor for something that I knew I barely had time to eat. With a frustrated groan, I opened the door and instinctually glared at the grin I saw.

"You look like a wreck," he stated, his grin disappearing.

"My instructors are overworking me, I swear," I stated, "there's no way I could get enough t—hold on. You're a freaking miracle! I swear!"

He looked a little confused, almost as if he failed to see why I was grumpy and annoyed one moment and I was grinning and happily packing my life away.

"Olmstead? What's wrong?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"Your timing is impeccable!" I exclaimed as I shut down both of my laptops and I was grabbing a suitcase and throwing clean and dirty laundry into it haphazardly.

"Okay, I guess it is. Why?" he asked.

"Right before you showed up, I was wondering just how in the world I was going to get enough time to do all of my assignments," I stated as I fought with the zipper to the suitcase as he obviously connected the dots.

"I hope you're not taking advantage of the fact that I have the TARDIS," he stated with a frown.

"What's wrong with getting some homework done in the time between the times we find ourselves deep in trouble?" I asked with a grin, "Isn't knowledge and learning worth everything?"

I glanced over to him, seeing as how he seemed speechless as I finally won the fight between myself and the zipper to the suitcase. I ran back over to my two laptops, sliding them into their cases as I started to pocket various things. iPod, check. DSi, check. Every flashdrive I had to my name, check. Keys, check. I looked back at my apartment, seeing as how everything that truly mattered to me were in my pockets or were accounted for. Well, apart from my instruments that filled a corner.

"Is that a Wii I see?" I heard him ask, almost eager.

"Yes and I thought we were going off on adventures," I stated.

"But it's a Wii," he stated, "and I like Wiis. Wiis are cool."

"Like you have a TV on your ship," I muttered.

"I could have a TV on the TARDIS," he stated.

"If you wanna drag it with us, go ahead and grab it," I stated lightly, "and I'm going to need some help carrying all this. My surgeon told me not to lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. One laptop is pushing it. Which means you're going to have to carry my clothes."

"Are you sure you should be-"

"Nothing's wrong with my legs," I stated with a frown, giving him a look, "and I spent over a week laying in bed as it is. I need to do something before I completely go bonkers."

"Are you sure that hasn't happened yet?" he asked right before I hit his arm in the friendly 'that's not funny' way as I walked past him with one of my two laptops.

"Why do you even need two laptops?" he asked as I noticed that he had followed me with my suitcase.

"I like to separate work and play," I stated with a shrug, "classwork really requires a basic computer while gaming requires a higher level of a computer."

"Let me get the door for you," he stated, racing ahead of me so that I wouldn't have to wait on him too long.

"And they say chivalry is dead," I muttered with a joking smirk as the door opened and I set the first laptop on the ramp and I noticed that my suitcase was placed next to it before I ran back to my apartment to grab the other laptop.

As I grabbed my second laptop, which I could tell was my gaming laptop. It was the heavier of the two laptops, the heavier weight to it caused me to feel a tightness where I knew I had to have stitches. It wasn't exactly painful, just a tightness as I realized that I was forgetting something. Right, my jacket and various other things. I removed the laptop bag as I gathered what I figured I'd need. My steampunk gear had been thrown into the suitcase, coat included, but I had forgotten about my more normal attire.

I was lucky that I was still clothed from my classes earlier that day. I had my domo-kun shirt on and a tan pair of cargo pants. I had been lucky that I hadn't cut my bare feet on the ground so I grabbed two random pair of socks, winding up with a gray sock on my left and a black sock on my right. At least I was more coordinated with my shoes since I only owned two pairs and my boots. I slipped on my sneakers, grabbing my boots so I wouldn't forget them. Then I grabbed my usual jacket, which was a worn denim jacket that used to belong to my dad but it fit just fine on me. I usually kept my keys and wallet in the breast pockets, so I didn't want to forget the jacket. Especially since the wallet I used was the wallet that my dad had used ever since I could remember. Then I grabbed my green denim patchwork hat, my sunglasses which I put on the brim of the hat and then my scarf which was a shade of green in the middle but faded to black at the ends. I knew I was ready for anything.

"Are you ready yet?" I heard him ask, already holding my wii with its various cords and cables.

"Pretty much," I replied with a smirk as I grabbed my gaming laptop, "you?"

"Then let's go already. Geronimo!" he exclaimed in excitement as he ran out of my apartment.

I grinned to myself as I stepped out of my apartment, giving it one last glance before I closed the door. I had a feeling that I'd never be back to it. I had moved enough times that I had long grown used to the feeling of leaving something behind. And then it dawned on me. I did leave something important behind. I ran back into the apartment to my bookshelf and saw the polished wooden box I had placed on one of the higher shelves. I didn't want to leave him behind. Grabbing the light box, I knew that nothing else was important enough to drag with me. I locked the door behind myself and ran down the stairs as butterflies took up my stomach. I was going to have the adventure of a lifetime.

The Doctor closed the doors behind me and I looked around at the increasingly familiar console room of the TARDIS. But this time, I was a more permanent visitor to it. Just the idea that I was going to be living there for a while gave a different feeling to the already amazing ship. This was going to be my home for a while, not just a mode of transportation that it had been to me during my initial, albeit short, visits in the ship.

"So what are the rules?" I asked the Doctor.

"Rules? Which ones?"

"Everyone has rules regarding their home. Like 'don't keep the seat up' or something like that," I responded.

"Oh, those rules," he stated, "generally boils down to not taking advantage of me."

"That I've figured," I stated, "same as 'don't be a douchecanoe'."

"A what?"

"Fancy and not nice way of saying 'jerk of great magnitude'. I don't make it a habit of taking advantage of anyone and I do my best to not be a jerk of any magnitude," I stated with a smirk.

"Right. So..." he said, trailing off before appearing to find his train of thought, "Welcome home. Explore. Knock yourself out. Please note that that is a figure of speech and that it would really suck if you managed to beat yourself unconscious whilst doing something."

"I get the idea," I stated with a smile as I went down the a corridor and found a plain door to my right.

Cautiously, I opened it, seeing a plain room that was mostly empty but looked rather welcoming. The walls looked like they were wood-paneled, the bed looked like it was definitely big enough for my liking and it had a sizable desk opposite of the bed. The room seemed well lit with a small closet and a dresser. I smiled to myself, feeling that I had found my room. I set the laptop down on the desk and set the polished wooden box on the dresser. Yeah, it was starting to come together already. I managed to spot a door along a room and guessed that it was a personal bathroom. I would have to verify my thoughts later.

"I see you've found your room," the Doctor said from behind me since I'd left the door open behind me.

"Seems like it," I stated, noticing that he was carrying my suitcase and my other laptop.

"She did a pretty nice job on your room," he stated appreciatively.

"Who are you talking about?" I asked.

"The TARDIS. She may seem like just a ship, but she's alive in more ways than most can guess," he stated with a smile, "and she's very sensitive."

"Then perhaps I should thank her for my room then," I stated with a smirk that I sometimes wore rather than a grin.

"I should leave you to your unpacking then. When you're ready, you know where to find me," he said with a smile as he unloaded what he had been carrying and ran off.

I looked at my things in my room and barely debated for a moment as to which was more important – unpacking or having an adventure somewhere in the universe at some unknown point in time. I made up my mind within a second. I stepped out of my room and closed the door behind me with a grin on my face. As I walked down the corridors, I couldn't help but to feel happy for the first time in a very long time. The Doctor clearly accepted me and decided that I was good enough to bring on adventures. Even if I didn't feel that I was good enough, I knew that by experiencing new things, things that most people never experience in their lifetimes, perhaps, I could become good enough. I had enough time to improve myself. I had all the time in the universe.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Don't Question Foreshadowing

I was wearing my noise-cancelling headphones connected to my handheld gaming console as I pranced into the control room, singing along the song that was beating into my brain, which really kinda fit the situation, "And the void would be calling… Let's do the time warp again! Let's do the time warp again!"

I may also have done some air guitar playing too. I was completely focused on the music up until I felt my headphones being snapped and I jumped, seeing Clara laughing.

"What?" I asked, removing my headphones.

"You were singing," Clara said, still laughing.

"I thought you were killing a cat," the Doctor said with a grin.

"Oh, c'mon," I said, exasperated at the Doctor, "I'm not that bad."

"At least she was singing something that fit," Clara said with a laugh.

"It's from my favorite musical," I stated with a grin.

"I don't watch musicals," Clara stated with a shrug.

"So where are we off to?" I asked, looking at the Doctor.

"We're going to check up on victim number one, Michelle Connor," he stated as the TARDIS started making the grindy-groany noise and the part in the glass cylinder started to move in tandem with the noise, convincing me that the noise was coming from the glass cylinder.

"And that would be…?" I asked the Doctor as I was knocked off my feet by the TARDIS shifting suddenly and landed on my posterior.

"I'll know once we land!" the Doctor shouted over the din.

After a few long moments of feeling as though I was on a really bad rollercoaster, the TARDIS settled and the grindy-groany noise stopped. I jumped to my feet as I saw the Doctor run to the screen of the TARDIS as I heard Clara laugh with excitement. I couldn't help but to smirk, not knowing what awaited outside of the TARDIS doors.

"Breathable atmosphere… near-Earth gravity… Oh! This is wonderful! We're on Lath!" the Doctor listed off before becoming excited.

"Lath?" I heard Clara ask the Doctor as I watched him, obviously not knowing what it meant.

"It's a bit of a resort which was really popular during the Thirty-Second Century, only to fall during what was later called the Nambian Uprising," the Doctor stated with a grin as he grabbed Clara's right wrist with his left hand as he passed by and grasped my left wrist with his right hand as he led both of us out.

"So let me get this straight," I stated as I was pulled out of the TARDIS and into what was clearly a lush orchard with a water fountain a few feet away, the water pouring out from a statue which looked like a rose, the water pouring out from between the petals, "Okay, this is nice. Anyway, back to what I was saying, this is a resort planet? I doubt they'd be all that happy about us dropping by without a penny to our name. I know I don't have any currency that would be accepted here."

I looked over to Clara, wondering if she had any currency which could be used here as the Doctor let go of both of our wrists. He took a few fast steps before turning around to face us, looking amused and just a bit too confident. He looked like a guy with a plan, and perhaps, an idea. I raised my eyebrows at him as I rubbed my left wrist absentmindedly. I was starting to wonder what he had up his sleeves when he spoke with a grin.

"Do you honestly worry about money when you go to a new place, Olmstead?" he asked.

"When it's a place where they may ask for it to gain admission, yes," I stated, "I don't always think about money, Doctor. All money is for is to make sure that I don't become homeless and dead from starvation. And to buy shiny things."

"Shiny things?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Video games, books, things not related to survival but are generally nice things to have," I stated with a shrug before asking, "what are you getting at?"

"Do you honestly think I have no way of obtaining currency as I need it?" he asked with a smile, "besides, they take credit chips and I happen to have one."

I grinned as I started walking, grabbing his wrist in the same manner he'd done with me not five minutes before, "so what are we waiting for? Let's get this show on the road!"

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, completely startled.

"This is my first honest-to-goodness alien world I've been to," I stated excitedly, "It's also my first resort I've been to. I'm gonna make the best out of it. On your dime if I have to in order to experience everything!"

"Don't hog his credit chip!" Clara exclaimed, catching up with us, "leave some for me too!"

"And this is why I only travel with one woman at a time," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" I asked, giving him a look while raising my eyebrows as I could tell that Clara was also giving him a look.

"What's wrong with having more than one woman around? I'd get bored with a lack of girl-talk before too long," Clara stated.

"You two are going to run me ragged, aren't you?" he asked, almost amusedly.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I asked with a grin before adding, "good thing that Clara's here to do that."

"Whut?" Clara squeaked.

"Just that I'm not interested in alien boy here," I stated, pointing my thumb at the Doctor.

"Don't…don't call me that," he stated, his voice low and a little sad.

"Great. I hit a nerve with the force of a sledgehammer," I muttered as I let go of his wrist and slowed my pace, "I didn't mean to."

"I know you didn't," he stated quietly, "just that you reminded me of someone I once knew."

"That doesn't sound so bad," I stated with a smile.

"She was my best friend. I had to remove all memory of me from her to save her life," he stated quietly as we reached a path lined with red brick, "she used to call me 'space man'."

"I get the feeling that I woulda loved hanging out with her," I stated with a smile.

"I would never hear the end of it," he muttered.

"But it's not bad… that I remind you of her…is it?" I asked, "I mean, it means that you haven't forgotten her."

"I never forget those I've traveled with," he said quietly.

I glanced to the other side of the Doctor where Clara was walking and gave her a look. I hoped to tell her within that look to follow my lead.

"On three," I told Clara with a grin, seeing the Doctor's clueless and confused look, "One."

"What are you cooking up in your head?" the Doctor asked, confused.

"Two," Clara and I said in unison.

"Olmstead?"

"Three!" I exclaimed and gave the Doctor a hug, seeing that Clara did the same, meaning that the Doctor was in the middle of a group hug.

"What was that for?" he asked, chuckling a bit in surprise as the darkness in his eyes retreated a bit.

"You were doing a drowned puppy act," I replied with a grin as I let go and continued to walk down the path, "I know that sometimes, humans hug when they want to cheer up their friend. I was hoping that it would have the same effect. Looks like that experiment was a success."

"So that was what it was? An experiment?" he asked.

"I couldn't base it on experience because I didn't know how you'd react. It's just that you used that trick on me. What's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong," he said with a smile, "just that seeing everything as an experiment ruins the fun."

"Unless one sees it as fun," I replied with a grin as we reached a building at the end of the path.

The building seemed to be made out of glass and painted metal. Through the glass, I could see that there were platforms near the wall to the far right. The building had crowds of various races, most of which I didn't recognize. I looked around, seeing that the area we were walking into seemed to be a lobby of some kind. I couldn't help but to grin widely as we walked in, a realization that I was experiencing something that a very, very few humans from my time did.

"So how exactly are we going to find Miss Connor?" I asked, looking over to the Doctor.

"Ask around?" he replied, "if she sticks out enough, someone should have seen her."

"You mentioned an uprising. We're nowhere near that, are we?" I asked.

"I'm sure we're clear of that timezone," he said, trying to reassure me.

"When is it supposed to happen anyways?" Clara asked.

"The year thirty-four fifty-six," he stated, "don't worry, okay? Now, let's start asking around. Someone's bound to have seen her somewhere."

I nodded before asking, "wait, how are we supposed to keep in contact if we split off?"

"Do you have a cell phone?" he asked.

I felt around in my pockets, pulling it out and tossing it underhanded at him. Luckily, he caught it effortlessly before pulling out his Sonic Screwdriver and running it over the cell phone for a few short moments before tossing it back at me.

"It should have universal roaming, regardless of where you are in time and space," he stated moments before my cell started to ring.

I glanced at the screen, seeing that it was from Pam. I closed my eyes, not entirely sure if I should answer. Either she was calling because I'd disappeared or because I was supposed to be dead and she was trying to locate my cell. I knew that if I were to talk to her, it would end with hurting not just myself but her as well and she was the closest thing I had to a sister. I looked over at the Doctor who pantomimed talking on the cell phone, grinning widely the whole time. I rolled my eyes and pressed the 'talk' button.

"Yeah'llo," I stated in my usual phone-answering manner, "What's new, Pammy?"

"Just where the hell are you?!" Pam screamed into the phone, "we're all terrified that you've become the latest victim."

"I'm fine, Pammy," I stated, not liking the feeling of having to come up with a lie, "I'm just taking an impromptu vacation with some buddies. We both know how bad Michael is. I mean you up and left town for your own safety. I'm taking care of my own personal safety."

"Where are you anyways?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told ya," I stated with a grin.

"But you're safe, right?" she asked.

"There is absolutely no such thing as absolute safety in this universe. It doesn't matter where I am or where I go, there is always a chance of danger," I stated, "but I know that my friends got my back."

"Just promise me that you're going to be okay," she stated.

"You know I can't make that promise and be of a good conscience," I stated with a sigh.

"At least promise me that you'll take care of yourself," she demanded.

"Now that's a promise I can make," I said with a smile, "I promise that I'll take care of myself. Maybe sometime soon, I could swing by and visit."

"That would be nice. What do you want me to tell mom?"

"That I'm out seeing the universe," I stated with a grin.

"Whatever you say, geek," she muttered before saying, "I've got to let you go. I'll talk to you later."

"Later, sissypoo," I stated with a grin before ending the call, turning to the Doctor as I still wore the grin, "so what? We all list each other's numbers and then call when we got news?"

"That's the plan," the Doctor said, pulling out a cell phone from the pocket of his tweed jacket.

"Can't argue with a tried and true method of staying in touch," I muttered before entering the numbers into my cell and the other two entered my own cell phone number into it.

~Author's Note~

Wow, that took a while! I wound up being surrounded by plot bunnies except the one I wanted. Sadly, I found that the plot bunny for this was dying so I had to nurse it back to health before I worked with it some more. Hopefully, I can actually finish this story before I deal with other plot bunnies and an old character of mine who is trying to get my attention as well as a whole group of new characters. I have small notes on what each victim's rescue plot will be. I'm actually looking forward to Eric's rescue and that's all I'm going to say about the future plots.

So why exactly did I redo the post-hospital bits? Well, I felt that the resolution of the College plot was cheap and I honestly wound up hating the Thanksgiving story. That and I completely wrote out Eric and I started to get ideas for his character and I honestly felt that I should have a chapter of Eric and Lisa discussing the goings-on and the "curse" surrounding the Music Building. I wanted to have some build up before she ran headfirst into danger.

While considering the re-write, I also felt that there has to be something about the victims when I came up with the idea that it was a rift or something that the victims would be thrown into and then having clones programmed to kill themselves do so. Pretty morbid, but I figured that it would suit the story better. In all, I feel that this is a much better story now. I don't know if I want to keep this story as the three-arc mess I'm contemplating or having it only involving the gathering of all temporally and spatially displaced victims and their adventures as they look for new homes for themselves while going on adventures. They will all leave eventually, even Melissa and Eric. (I'm almost feeling sad for the Doctor when that happens. The thing is, I don't know exactly how sad/traumatic/happy of a leaving it would be. After all, one just can't keep running forever.)


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

I Didn't Do It

I walked through the crowds of the massive plaza, feeling quite thankful that the crowds weren't too dense. I had plenty of room to move around. I honestly didn't know what Michelle Connor looked like, which made it difficult. I didn't know what she looked like beyond her being human. I let out a sigh before approaching a random alien. This one looked like a bipedal housecat, which I found to be quite odd, but that was just me.

"Excuse me," I said, trying to get the bipedal feline's attention, "but have you seen a human girl running around in early twenty-first century clothing?"

"Do you have any details other than that?" he asked.

"Well, she'd be speaking twenty-first century English. No clue how different that'd be to what we're speaking now," I stated, "I failed my History of English class in school."

"It's almost a completely different language," he stated kindly, "if that's all she speaks, she is probably quite scared."

"Yes. And she's very lost," I replied with a frown, "and that's why I'm looking for her."

"I wish you luck," he stated with a smile.

"Thanks," I said before walking out of the plaza, following the foot paths with a frown.

I heard my cell phone ring and I answered it without thinking, "Yeah'llo."

"Any luck?" I heard the Doctor ask.

"Big ol' nada," I muttered with a sigh, "checked in with Clara yet?"

"She hasn't had much luck either," he stated.

"Are you absolutely sure that the TARDIS was right in that she's here?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said with a heavy sigh, "we just need to keep looking before something bad happens."

"What happened to 'don't worry'?"

"Something bad always happens," he stated, "I'm just hoping that our luck holds out long enough to find her and leave."

"But then it means leaving people who may need your help," I stated.

"Please don't," he stated, "I'll check in again in about…twenty minutes from now."

"Gotcha," I stated, hanging up and sliding the phone back into my pocket as I looked around, finding that I was in an open-air market.

I looked around with a big grin on my face as I perused the market, only looking since the Doctor hadn't given me his credit chip. I'd never been in an open-air marketplace before. I'd gone to malls and grocery stores and farmer's markets, but they all had been in buildings. This was open to the sky apart from the umbrellas and tapestries which were hung over the stalls to keep the sun off of the wares and the merchants. The new experiences made me both happy and excited, reminding me why I always wanted to travel.

"What's that?" I asked the merchant, pointing at a swath of fabric which was a hue closer to green than blue.

"Lavarian silk, miss," the merchant replied with a grin, "it's well known for being able to keep those who wear it at their most comfortable temperature."

"Wow," I said in amazement, "how exactly does that work? I can see how it could keep people cool by being light, breathable, and able to shield the wearer from the sun, but I can't imagine how it could keep anyone warm."

The merchant, a man who looked to be in his thirties smiled to me kindly, clearly impressed with my question. He gave off this feeling of being completely harmless as he lifted the swath of fabric which was folded into a six-inch square. I could see the sheen of the fabric as it moved.

"It's the fibers, miss," he said with a grin, "the fibers of the Lavarian Silk Spider has the natural ability to remember the wearer's skin temperature to the point of keeping it stable regardless of the outside temperature."

"That sounds incredible," I said in awe before remembering my mission, "by the way, sir, have you seen a girl around my age wearing early twenty-first century clothing and speaking twenty-first century English go past here? She's lost and I'm trying to find her. She's a classmate of mine and I don't really know her. My teacher sent me to look for her before our ship leaves."

"I'm sorry, miss," the merchant said, "but I wish you luck."

"Thanks," I said, turning to walk away.

"Miss," the merchant said, calling out to me, "take this in good luck."

"Really?" I asked, seeing that he held the swath of silk out to me with a grin.

"It would be my honor if this gave you good luck and helped you in your search. I pray that you leave before things get worse here," the merchant said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, accepting the cloth.

"There are protests daily. It's feared that there would be an uprising any day now. Many of us merchants are leaving at day's end," he said, looking worried.

"What year is it, by any chance?" I asked, frightened that the Doctor may have been both right and wrong.

"Thirty-four fifty-six," he said before asking, "wouldn't you know that?"

"It's hard keeping track of time when you're hopping from planet to planet," I stated, "especially with the distances and the amount of time it takes."

"But we base our calendar on Earth's orbit," he said.

"I failed basic timekeeping in school," I muttered sourly.

"You'll get the hang of it," he said, sympathetically.

"Thanks," I said with a grateful smile as I continued to walk through the market, placing the fabric in my messenger bag.

I sat on a bench which circled a fountain at the end of the market. It looked identical to the first water fountain I saw when I arrived here, but instead of it being one rose, it was a bouquet of roses and it was much larger. I took out my cell phone and selected the number stored as "Doctor". I pressed the call button and held it up to my ear as I kept my breathing even. One ring. I knew just what I was going to tell him. Second. He better pick up or else my yelling at him would last far longer. By not picking up, he wasn't doing himself any favors.

"Hello, Olmstead! I was just about to check in with you!" he said happily, sounding like a hyperactive and giddy child.

"Loco go tsao de baka! Wuh de ma! Do you know how much drek we're in, you bagbiting buffoon!" I shouted right into the receiving end of the cell phone.

"OW!" I heard him shout, "that hurt. Were all those curses really necessary?"

"Yes! Yes they were, you liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh ur-tze!"

"Are you done cursing?" he asked with a sigh, sounding annoyed.

"I think I got it all out of my system," I stated, feeling calmer, "I just hope you know what year this is."

"I just heard," I heard him say, "which means we need to look harder so we could get out of history's way before everything boils over."

"I just hope you know that if I bite the big one, I'm going to haunt you!"

"If only I could be so lucky," I heard him mutter before saying, "Let's just keep going and hope for the best."

"I don't think we should split up like this," I stated, "I've seen TPKs happen just like this in Shadowrun."

"We're running out of time. Just take care of yourself and keep in touch. If anything happens and you need help, just call if you can," he stated, "I may have to interfere if things get bad."

"Don't worry, chummer, I'm a big girl. I can handle myself," I stated, "check in with me in about a half an hour?"

"Sounds good," he stated quietly before hanging up.

"Now to get back to looking around," I muttered to myself as I continued my search through the marketplace when shouting and screaming was heard, coming from the plaza.

Should I run towards a situation which could be a life and death situation or run away from it? I knew that I wanted to make sure that Michelle Connor wasn't involved, but also, I didn't want to lose my life quite yet. I made a run for it, running the opposite direction from the plaza, seeing a froglike alien appear in front of me with a gun-like weapon pointed directly at me.

"Stop right there, human scum!" it shouted, firing as to miss me by a very small margin.

I stopped in my tracks, holding my hands up in surrender. 'If I get out of this, I am so going to make the Doctor give me a calm vacation,' I thought to myself as I stared at the alien in fear. I hoped that I was going to make it out of this situation.

"Stopping!" I exclaimed, "don't shoot me! You've got no reason to shoot me. I'm not even a local!"

"You will be silent and hand over your communication device!" the alien demanded.

I clamped my mouth shut and handed him my cell phone. If I hadn't been so scared for my life, I'd have demanded to have it back after he got done with it. He looked at it confusedly before looking back at me.

"You will contact a friend of yours and then hand it over to me."

I merely hit the redial button and handed the phone over. He could talk to the Doctor. It might be worth a few laughs as I knew that Mr. Alien-Time-Traveler could mentally run circles around this schmuck. Even if I'd get killed because of it, at least I caused this jerkwad some annoyance. I watched as the froglike alien hold the phone near his head.

"Silence, human scum! I have your woman here and if you ever have any wish to see her unharmed, you will do as I say!" the alien demanded.

A long silence was heard and I figured that the Doctor had a good amount to say to my captor. He seemed to be as long-winded as his previous form as I watched my captor almost glower from the Doctor's rant.

"I don't care how similar or different you are to humans! You are exothermic! I don't care! Just tell the Oversight Council that we are now taking back our world! If they fail to give into our demands, we will start killing humans! Understood, Time Lord?" the alien exclaimed, finally snapping.

Another long silence as I guessed that the Doctor was speaking. I frowned to myself, realizing that I probably missed out on a fairly epic speech. I wondered what was going to happen. I had no control over the situation. At least until I could weasel my way out.

"I will allow you to speak with her," the alien said before handing me the phone.

"Are you okay, Olmstead?" he asked, obviously concerned.

"For the time being. Is Clara okay?" I asked.

"I'm catching up to her and then we're going to end this before anyone dies," he stated before asking, "do you trust me?"

"I trust you as far as getting me out of this," I stated.

"Just play along with them and buy us some time," he stated.

"Don't worry about me," I said, "I'll be fine."

"Call me later when you can," he said before hanging up.

~Author's Note~

I made it clear that Lisa is an absolute geek who's seen far too much sci-fi. I figured because of that mixed with adopting words from other languages to use as swear words, when she gets really infuriated, she has some very colorful (and multi-lingual) insults to throw. I'll list every word and phrase which I don't expect you guys to know at the end of the chapter (she uses gamer and techie slang too). She's especially miffed at the Doctor, as you could tell because of her cursing.

Loco = Spanish for "crazy"

Go tsao de = Mandarin (yay for Firefly!) for "dog humping"

Baka = Japanese for "idiot" or "fool

Wuh de ma = Mandarin for "mother of God"

Drek = Shadowrun slang for excrement

Bagbiting = Having the quality of a bagbiter, someone or something that has failed or causes trouble (intentionally or not).

Liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh ur-tze = Mandarin for "Stupid son of a drooling (curse redacted) and a monkey."

Chummer = Shadowrun slang for "buddy" which is also synonymous with "shark bait".


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

In which things go horribly wrong

It had been an hour later when I found myself in a large room with various other humans and humanoids being packed in like sardines. There were several guards at the double doors. I knew that we could probably overrun the guards if we worked together, but that would mean that many people who were captives would be injured, if not killed. No, there had to be another way. The room's back wall had a single window which led right outside, to thick bushes. The problem was this – not only did it have a screen, but it also was two stories high and there was nothing to use to climb down, at least on the outside. I got an idea. It was either going to end with my dying or my getting hurt, but it was better than just waiting around for something to happen.

I got up from my sitting position on the floor as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Since I was near the back and most were standing, I had enough cover as I answered the phone.

"You really have an interesting interpretation of the words 'thirty minutes', mister Lord of Time," I almost hissed into the phone.

"Just warning you that the Oversight Council isn't going to cave into their demands," he stated quietly.

"How much time do we have until word gets out?" I asked.

"Five minutes," the Doctor stated.

"Can you stall 'em?" I asked, watching the mass of humanity.

"I'm trying," he stated, frustration in his voice.

"Keep on doing that. I've got an idea on my end," I stated quietly, "and if you find out that my plan led to my death by way of trying to break the laws of gravity, I don't blame ya. Wait…yeah, I do blame ya… for your horrible timing, you blockhead! I'll call once I can to let ya know that I'm alive."

"Don't do anything daft, Olmstead."

"I think it's a bit too late for ya to be telling me that," I stated before hanging up.

I looked around, making my way towards the back wall and the window. I needed to get closer so I could iron out my plan a bit. A hand grabbed my upper arm, spinning me to my left. There, I saw a timid mouse of a girl, her dishwater blonde hair reaching near her rear and her wide, green eyes piercing into mine with the fear she felt. I saw what she was wearing. It was a t-shirt with a character from My Little Pony on it, almost covered entirely by a denim jacket which looked rather nice and expensive.

"Michelle Connor?" I asked as she had just opened her mouth.

"You're the first one I've seen today who spoke honest-to-God English!" she exclaimed happily, hugging me tightly, "I was so scared!"

"My friends and I have been looking for you for hours!" I exclaimed just as happily, "just follow my lead and I can get the two of us out."

"And what about us?" a rather bulky man asked, leering down at me.

"I promise that we'll get help here," I stated, "assuming I can actually get my plan to work."

"Why don't we just force our way out? The Nambians are idiots and weaklings. We've got the advantage of numbers," a woman off to my far left said, speaking over the rising din.

"Do you know what that will lead to?" I asked, feeling as if I was suddenly channeling the Doctor, "it will lead to people dying. Do any of you want to run towards any crazed armed beings and possibly get yourselves killed?"

I looked around as people looked at me. Some of the looks were thoughtful, some were just eyes rolling, others were disbelieving, and others still looked at me with frustration and anger. They were muttering, creating a dim as everyone started to crowd near me. I felt panic rising within me as everyone was trying to get towards me in desperation for me to help them escape. I started to have trouble breathing as the old anxiety awakened. I stepped backwards, trying to put more distance between me and the panicking throng of humanity until my back was pressed solidly to the wall and yet they still approached me, hands reaching out, the group almost looking like one mutated mass of flesh as my sight started to dim.

Next thing I knew, I was laying on my back on the floor, opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling. My forehead throbbed sharply to contrast with the dull throb at my temples. I let out a groan as I slowly sat up with my head in my hands as I felt my aches remain at their original levels.

"You passed out," Michelle stated, "you hyperventilated."

"Social anxiety," I muttered sourly as I stood up to turn my attention to the window, "physical latch, screen looks screwed in."

"You think that's a good idea? We're two stories up," she stated.

"Two flights," I repeated, "broken legs."

"What?" she asked.

"The worst injury from a fall from two stories in normal conditions is broken legs. Assuming that one lands on their feet on grass," I stated, "I need you to cover me. If you can keep an eye out for the guards, I could keep my progress on the down low."

"They came by five minutes ago," she stated, "seems to be shifts of fifteen minutes."

"So ten minutes to get the window open and the screen removed and then getting me down, hopefully without anyone's attention," I stated, a grin forming on my lips, "I'm gonna love this part."

"But how are you going to get down?" she asked.

"I have a messenger bag and a swath of fabric. Assuming it's about a meter long, I can tie it to my messenger bag's handle and use the messenger bag to secure a foot. It shouldn't be long enough to get me fully down, but I should be close enough to the ground to jump the rest of the way," I stated as I slowly opened the window, "oh, the Doctor may just love that idea."

"The Doctor?" she asked.

"He's a good person. Goes only by 'the Doctor'. Kinda like 'the Green Lantern' and stuff," I stated as I searched the pockets to my cargo pants, pulling out a multi-tool, "let's just hope that this has the right kind of screw. Oh what I wouldn't give to have the Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver right about now. It'd solve all our problems."

"You're not making much sense," she stated as I started testing out the screwdriver heads of my multi-tool.

"You'll get used to it," I stated off-handedly, shooting her a grin as I found the right screwdriver head which would work good enough, "there we go."

It was then that my cell phone started to vibrate and I muttered a rather lengthy curse I picked up from watching Firefly as I closed the window and stashed my multi-tool. I managed to answer on the fourth ring.

"Let me guess. Bad news, Doc?" I answered, knowing that it would only be the Doctor.

"I couldn't stall them much longer," I heard him say.

"How much time do I have to get the heck outta Dodge?" I asked.

"Three minutes," he answered.

"Da-shiang bao-tza shr duh lah doo-tze," I muttered, "I need more frakkin' time here!"

"I bought you a half an hour!" he exclaimed.

"Most of which I spent passed out because I hyperventilated!" I hissed.

"What?" he asked.

"I need more time here. Can't you do something? Anything?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," he said as I heard the door slam open and I slid the phone into my pocket without hanging up.

"The Oversight Council has failed to understand our plight!" the frogman alien announced, "so we will show them just how much we are committed to gaining out planet back by killing a handful of you in plain sight! Either five will volunteer or we will have to choose seven of you!"

I saw had five different people raised their hands and stepped forward, announcing that they were volunteering to die so that fewer people would be killed. Once the froglike aliens had their volunteers, they gave us a hiss before slamming the doors behind them. I opened the window and continued my work before remembering that the Doctor's call hadn't yet ended and I pulled the phone out.

"I'm back," I stated, "oh and I'm with Michelle."

"This isn't going to end well," I heard him say on the phone, obviously saddened by the loss of life.

"Listen, I need you to pick us up once we've escaped," I said, clamping the phone to my ear using my shoulder so I could go back to unscrewing the window.

"I'm not turning my back on this situation," he stated, "there are people who need me."

"I didn't mean so we could turn our backs on the situation. It's so that we could get rescued and taken to someplace where we won't be cows lined up and waiting for the slaughter," I hissed into the phone, "and I'll see how many I can get out of here so any sort of participation in my escape plan would be very nice to have."

"Just let me know when," the Doctor stated after a few screws were removed, leaving the last two to be done.

"Gotcha," I stated, handing the phone to Michelle.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Michelle asked as I worked on the second to the last screw.

"I want you to let the Doctor know you're ready for a pickup once you get out of here and a good distance from these frogmen," I stated.

"What about you?" Michelle asked.

"I want to make sure everyone else gets out first," I stated, "I've broken bones before. I'll be fine."

Michelle apparently heard something from the phone and lifted it to her ears before saying, "I'm Michelle. Okay." She held the phone to me and said, "he has some choice words for you."

"I bet he does," I stated, "I'll get to hear them all in the TARDIS."

She held the phone back to her ear before saying, "he wants me to tell you to not try to be a hero and get out as soon as you could."

"And he can shove it where the sun don't shine," I stated, working on the last screw carefully so that the screen wouldn't fall.

It was about that time when I heard a scream and the sound of a weapon going off. People were being killed. I closed my eyes for a moment as I grew still before trying to speed up the process.

"He says that once you get into the TARDIS that you'll be grounded," Michelle stated.

"He may be the chauffeur, but he's not my boss and he is not in any sort of position to ground me like a little child. Especially for doing things I know he'd do himself if he was in my shoes," I stated, "and there's a proper time and place for this discussion and this ain't it."

"I don't think he's happy."

"I'm not having that great of a day myself, to be honest," I stated as the final screw came out and I gently removed it while having a grip on the screen, pushing it out and gripping it to pull it into the room.

I poked my head out as the second cry of agony and weapon blast was heard. Each one happening long moments between each other. I knew that there had to only been twenty of the frog aliens here and there had to be a two-to-one ratio between them and the victims being killed. Which meant that there were only four controlling the whole building. Now, those are better odds.

"Okay, everyone, we're splitting into two groups," I stated, looking at the group excitedly.

"And why should we listen to you?" I heard a woman ask me, clearly not believing me.

"Because I'm going to be saving your lives," I stated, "got any problem with that? No? Good! So group one's gonna escape through that window there. If you land in a balanced fashion, you shouldn't get too hurt. You'll be following Michelle to where you'll meet up with a man named the Doctor who will get you all into his ship and wait for my group within the ship. Those with me will force our way out of the back of the building and to Michelle's location. We're aiming at the other side of that hill off to our far left, about a good twenty feet away. Any questions?"

"One!" Michelle exclaimed, raising her hand and getting a nod from me before asking, "the Doctor wants me to ask this. Are you insane?"

"He should know the answer to that himself," I said with a grin as I looked out at the group of humanity, "so those going with Michelle, go to the window and start jumping out. Those with me, let's make the biggest ruckus possible!"

~Author's Note~

I think the Doctor's rubbing off on Lisa far too much. She's definitely trying to see the same angles she thinks he would have. Three chapters in a day? I think my muse is trying to make it up to me. Also, if I ever make the Doctor and Clara's dialogue not British enough, please throw me a bone. I'm an American.

Da-shiang bao-tza shr duh lah doo-tze = Mandarin. "The explosive diarrhea of an elephant"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

The Myth of Happy Endings

I was thankful that most of Michelle's group had left, leaving only a few stragglers when the guards opened the door. I let out a guttural yell as I led the charge, catching them unaware enough that they missed me by a mile when they fired in my direction. I decked one of the frogmen, hitting it in its right eye, causing it to scream as I wrenched the gun out of its hand, hearing the other landing on the floor as well. I gave the group a wide grin, feeling alive as I took off at a run, running to where the stairs we'd been marched up earlier and heading to where I hoped the back door was.

It was a few minutes of nervous silence as shots were fired at us. I aimed my shots at their extremities, knowing not to fire any lethal shots. The two remaining guards backed off, possibly because they were wounded. I kept an eye on them as I waved everyone through, doing what I could to keep everyone protected before bringing up the rear and then jogging to the lead position, looking for the back door.

We only had to walk five more minutes before finding the door which I'd only assumed existed. I waved everyone through, watching the rear of the group of unarmed and defenseless people before leaving the building behind, leading the group to the base of the hill which I'd mentioned we'd meet up with Michelle. I kept jogging, burning up the adrenaline which was coursing through my system, grinning widely the whole time. I never felt as alive as I did in that moment.

Once we walked around the hill, the familiar blue box greeted me and I could feel my grin widening, seeing a familiar being leaning against the blue box. I slid the gun into my messenger bag for future use as I approached. He didn't seem too angry; in fact, he seemed calm, giving me a smile as he saw that I was fine.

"So I heard you had choice words for me," I stated, raising my eyebrows at him.

"I was annoyed because you handed me off to someone else," he stated with a frown, "as well as giving me an attitude."

"I had to focus on coming up with a plan which didn't involve jumping from a window. Mostly when I realized just how far from the ground two stories were," I stated with a smile which felt feeble.

"Have a problem with heights too?" he asked, turning serious.

"Only when I'm falling. Or climbing up," I stated with that same feeble-feeling smile.

"We're going to be rescued by that?" one of the people in my group asked.

"It's a lot bigger than it looks," I said with a smirk as the Doctor pushed open the doors, contradicting the sign on one of the doors.

I watched as the group looked at the TARDIS, some walking around it, trying to figure it out. Some things never change. I saw a team of the frogmen reaching the top of the hill, firing at us. I muttered a curse as I watched people panic. This wasn't going to be a good situation.

"Get in!" I shouted at the group, hearing that I barked at the people as I debated what I should do, instead waving people in before running in myself.

"You're alive!" Clara exclaimed, happy to see me.

"You expected me to up and die and not be around to drive the Doctor up the wall?" I asked, laughing as I heard the doors slam.

I looked around, seeing that the Console Room was crowded with all sorts of people before turning to Clara who said, "we should get out of the way."

I nodded, heading to the stairs so I could be out of the way and to prevent myself from hyperventilating. The last thing I wanted was to give the Doctor reason to believe that I wasn't up to traveling, that I wasn't good enough. I wondered if I was the first to feel that way as I sat down on a stair, watching as the Doctor reached the console and tried to navigate around, seeing so many people there.

"Everyone! Get out of my way!" I could hear him shout, sounding just a bit irate and more than a little agitated.

"Manners, Doc!" I shouted at him, getting a glare from him.

"I can't not be rude when I can't even run around the console! How am I gonna pilot the TARDIS when there's all sorts of people blocking my way?!" the Doctor shouted at me, now quite irate.

"Clara, can you whistle?" I asked, turning to Clara with a grin.

"How loud?" she asked, grinning back.

"As loud as you can."

My ears were ringing for a full minute afterwards as her whistle made everyone stop in their tracks as I jumped up to stand before shouting, "Okay, everyone! Listen up! I need everyone to go into this hallway here and just stand and wait! Oh and it might also be a good idea to sit down actually. If any of you suffer from motion sickness, just go wait in a bathroom! Okay, follow me!"

I turned to Clara as I waited for everyone to shuffle towards us, "did you have to whistle that loud?"

"You asked for it!" Clara exclaimed.

I opened my mouth to defend myself before realizing that I did actually ask for it before saying, "yeah. I did, didn't I?"

"Onwards!" I shouted, spinning so that I was facing the direction leading the people, realizing as I was walking that I probably did multiple rotations, but I didn't care.

I felt safe. There was nothing that could hurt me while I was in the TARDIS as long as I stayed to the rooms which were familiar to me. Especially when the Doctor was inside with us. He'd keep us safe especially if his own existence was on the line. And I'd begun to wonder if it really matter if he was nearby or far away, as long as there were people who needed help, he would help them. I walked for a few minutes before I sat down, stretching my legs, seeing that Clara was sitting down at the end of the corridor, near the door. I saw her give him a thumbs up before I started feeling the TARDIS move, the sounds of it leaving its previous location echoing down the corridor as everything jolted around wildly, reminding me of a carnival ride.

I looked over the various people who looked either worried, scared, or terrified out of their wits. Me, I was grinning like a loon. I could hear the TARDIS settle down as we felt one last jolt. I saw Clara turn in my direction and gave me a thumbs up before getting up. I jumped up and started to help everyone stand up. Luckily, no one had gotten sick, to my relief. Clara started leading everyone out of the corridor and I was at the rear of the shuffling group, making me hop from foot to foot to try to reign in my energy and impatience.

As I got to the console room, I noticed that everyone were leaving through the double doors. I walked out with the end of the group before spotting where the Doctor and Clara were, jogging towards them before I was approached by Michelle.

"This is incredible!" Michelle exclaimed, causing me to smile.

"The TARDIS is that, all right," I said with a smile, "doesn't hurt that it's a time traveling spaceship. Or is it a spacefaring time machine? Anyways, it's definitely quite a wonder."

"So what exactly does the Doctor do?"

"This," I said, motioning to the crowd which was dissipating, "helping people, saving the universe, seeing new worlds, having adventures. The kinds of things I always imagined doing when I was a kid."

"So that's why you're bouncing on your feet and running around with a huge grin on your face?" Michelle asked.

"What?" I asked, not realizing that I hadn't been able to stand still the whole time.

"You're bouncing on the heels of your feet," she stated.

"I am? Oh. Never done that before," I stated before adding, "or if I did do that before, I never noticed. Wonder what other things I do that I haven't noticed. That's new."

"You're acting more alien than the Doctor is," Michelle stated.

"And? Being 'normal' is for boring people," I stated with a grin, "what's wrong with reveling in the whole adventuring thing and being excited for life?"

"Nothing wrong with that," Michelle stated, "but do you really want others to wonder who's the alien here?"

"And I should care about the opinion of the people who aren't important to me?" I asked in a deadpan, glancing at her.

"Are you saying that I'm not important?" she asked.

"You're neither a friend nor one with a time traveling spaceship or a spa—" I started before I was interrupted.

My face stung as I suddenly found that my head had been turned by the force of the impact. I'd been slapped. For the first time in years, if not decades. I blinked, still a bit stunned as I looked at Michelle who glared me down in fury. My left hand rubbed the cheek which had been aching. She took a step toward me and grabbed me by the collar of my worn denim jacket and pulled me down so I was eye-level with her and staring into her furious gaze, flinching half because of the flame of anger and because I always felt intimidated when I made eye contact with anyone.

"You will never insinuate that I am unimportant," she almost growled.

"I said 'to me'!" I yelped in fear, unable to extricate myself from her grip.

"It doesn't matter! I'm not unimportant!" she exclaimed.

"You're definitely not my friend," I said calmly, looking into her eyes, "which means that I don't care what your opinion of me is!"

"You will!" she exclaimed.

"Oh look at you. You're like a Chihuahua. Lots of bark, especially when dealing with bigger people. Gotta act all big, huh?" I asked, my mouth going without my brain filtering it, half because I had no other plan and half because she was being a bully and I knew how to deal with bullies, "and I suppose it's all cause your parents gave you everything you ever wanted. Except their love, huh?"

I felt my left cheek erupting in pain as my head was turned again. This time, I'd been expecting it. I quickly turned to look at her.

"Don't do that again," I stated.

"Then stop seeing me as unimportant," she stated.

"I'm not gonna worship the very ground you stand on, if that's what you're saying," I stated, "what happened to you? I mean we were getting along swimmingly back there…"

"One, I was terrified out of my wits. Two, you were acting like you had a plan," she stated, "and three, you didn't say I was unimportant then."

"I said that you weren't a friend yet," I stated, "which means that I don't care for your opinion and I wasn't and not ever going to let it affect me in any way."

"You better care for my opinion!" she exclaimed, hissing at me.

"Now what is going on?" I heard a familiar voice asked, his tone curious but had a barely disguised tone of annoyance.

"She called me unimportant!" Michelle exclaimed before I could respond.

"I think that regardless of what she said, it doesn't merit physical violence," he said lightly, glancing pointedly at the hands holding onto my jacket.

"I'm not the bad guy here!" she exclaimed defensively.

"Words are no justification for physical violence," I stated lightly, "ergo, yes. Yes, you are being the bad guy here."

It was then that Michelle started crying, letting go of my jacket and I stretched backwards with a sigh of relief that I could stand straight again, getting a glance from Clara as Michelle went running to her. I looked at the Doctor, who was giving me a glare.

"I didn't exactly tell her she was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. What do you take me for? A complete monster? Wait," I said, pausing before saying, "scratch that. I…I'm just gonna…y'know…go back into the TARDIS so I don't make a bigger mess of things. I mean, there's no reason for you to see me as anything else but a complete monster."

I turned around, feeling less welcome as I made my way to the TARDIS. I needed something to soothe the emotional pain I was feeling. I needed to drink something while I worked my way through my pain, far from everyone. I pulled the door open like the sign told me to and padded in, not wanting to be in sight of anyone after what happened. Was this why everyone dropped me like a hot potato once they see my true face? Why so many guys, after I've formed a bond with them, would replace me as soon as they could?

I made my way to the kitchen, wanting to make myself some peppermint tea. That always helped me to work through my emotions. After a bit of waiting, the pot of water was boiling and I carried the teapot to the table, setting it down on a special type of coaster made for teapots before grabbing myself a teacup, a spoon, and some sugar before sitting down.

I dropped two heaping teaspoons of sugar into my cup before pouring some of the tea into my cup. And then came the waiting for the tea to cool. I stared into my hot drink, deciding that I could start working out my thoughts and feelings. Hate bubbled up, every bit of it focused at myself. I felt quite the idiot. I knew why I felt that; after all, I was pretty much a complete monster. No matter where I went, I always brought sadness and bad luck to those who got close to me. First, it had been my parents to suffer. Then my closest friends. I'd caused so much horrible things long before That Day. I deserved being slapped by Michelle and being glared at by everyone. Just like how I deserved every horrible thing that had ever happened to me.

I don't know how long I'd been sitting there in the kitchen, staring into my cup of tea when I noticed that someone sat across the table from me. I knew it was the Doctor long before he even spoke, seeing him in my peripheral vision. Silence stretched between us long enough that I got the feeling that he was letting me speak first.

"I don't know how you even put up with me," I stated, "I'm useless and a nobody when I'm not a complete monster who barges into other peoples' lives unannounced and winds up making everything worse."

"Of all things you are, you're neither useless or a nobody," he stated, sounding annoyed, "and I'm tired of people who think that they're unimportant. Everyone's important. And I can tell now that you're not a monster, complete or otherwise."

"I think I'm useless," I stated with a frown, "I mean, I passed out because I hyperventilated, which I did because I was cornered by a mob of very desperate people who all wanted my attention and for me to save them."

"Why would you want to do something like hyperventilate?"

"It…happened. I've got no control over when my tolerance of being in a crowd gets used up," I stated, "that's why I understand the need for personal space."

"So says the girl who coordinated a group hug with Clara," he said, sounding amused.

"You were going into emo territory. You needed a hug to pull you out," I stated.

He suddenly stood up and walked to me. I quickly was pulled to my feet and felt arms wrap around me in a tight hug. I knew I twitched and stiffened. After I hit the age of twelve, I stopped being hugged at all. Before that point, I was only hugged when I was upset and crying. This was still rather new to me. It was then that I realized that the hug was more like a cling and not of the romantic variety.

"Doctor?" I asked, quite puzzled by what exactly was going on.

"There, I think that helped," he stated, letting me go abruptly.

"And to think Michelle said that I act more alien than you," I muttered.

"So what was that whole mess with her all about?" he asked as he sat back on the chair he'd been sitting on before the hug.

"She wanted me to allow her opinions of me change who I am, that I would conform to her expectations," I stated with a frown as I sat down, "and I told her that she isn't quite that important to me for that to happen."

"That's different from what she told me," he stated as I stared into my cup of tea.

"It doesn't matter who you listen to," I said quietly, "I know that you'll favor her over me anyways."

"What makes you say that?"

I looked him in the eyes. I didn't care if he saw the emotional wounds everyone had left in me, the same ones I'd been careful to hide.

"Because I'm no one's favorite anything," I stated quietly, "I'm the one who's always kicked to the curb when people are done with me. I'm the replaceable girl. Everyone replaces me in their lives. Typically with people who are more perfect and less weird and unusual and with all due haste. If my mom hadn't had her tubes tied, she would have replaced me with a new, more perfect kid."

Silence fell between us as I noticed a darkness just out of reach, growing in his eyes as I divulged everything to him. As I told him now everyone got rid of me and kicked me to the curb. I saw the darkness grow once I made the passing remark about my mother.

"You're wrong," he said quietly.

"Then why did my own mother call me a 'mistake' for five years of my life?" I asked, hearing my own anger in my voice.

"I don't know," he said, just as quietly, "but you are not replaceable. Not to me, I can tell you that right now."

"But it's clear that I'm basically a mayfly compared to you," I stated with a frown.

"It's not replacing when I remember everyone I've ever traveled with," he said quietly, "and when you leave, I'll remember you too."

"Yeah," I said quietly, looking back into my cup, "I can't promise that I'll be traveling with you forever. It'd be a promise I could never keep. What I will promise is that I'll be here up until I feel that it's my time to move on. That it's time for me to put all this in my past. Until that day comes, I'm not gonna leave."

"But that day will come," he stated.

"Nothing lasts forever," I stated, "you of all people should know that. That there's a time for everything. My time for traveling in space and time with a kind old soul with his incredible time traveling spaceship is now. Or would the TARDIS be more of a space-faring time machine?"

"It doesn't matter," he said with a smile as I took a sip from my tea, "there is something that I wondered."

"Hmm?" I asked, swallowing a big gulp of my tea.

"You were adamant about having your boyfriend be the last victim we'd rescue," he stated, "why? If it was someone I cared about, I'd rush to rescue them the first chance I'd get."

"I'm not in a rush to get my hopes crushed," I stated, looking at the liquid in my cup, "the longer I draw it out, the longer I could remain hopeful and ignorant of his possible death. Besides, I don't think you'd be in a rush to see the scene which would doubtlessly unfold if he is alive. Let alone just how busy I'd be afterwards. I want to remain focused on helping everyone before I get all soft and mushy."

"You didn't deny it," he stated with a grin.

"Stop it! You're too old to try to play the part of an annoying little brother," I stated with a huff, "especially when you were definitely acting like a withered ol' grandpa."

"I don't act like a withered old grandpa!" he exclaimed in annoyance.

"Then why do you sometimes look at me with that look of experience and wisdom that I used to see in my own grandpa's eyes?" I asked with a smirk, "face it, you can't help it."

"I can't help it that I have old eyes," he stated, "not physically old, just—"

"That's what I'm saying," I stated, "you sometimes come off as a space grandpa. A space grandpa who brings home the broken strays and tries to mend them while playing the part of an interstellar tourist. Wow. I think I just summed you up."

"I don't know if I like or hate your analogy," he muttered.

"You'll get used to it, old man."

"Are you trying to rise out of me?"

"If by 'rise', you mean just me giving you a hard time just for the sake of it and nothing much else, yes. Wow, and to think I almost could have made an innuendo out of it," I muttered with a smirk.

"I'm done," he said, standing up and walking out of the kitchen, "I'm done."

~Author's Note~

Michelle got a bit of character development, as did Lisa (sorry for the angst). I couldn't help how Lisa summed up the Doctor (which I think is the perfect analogy). Just like I couldn't help but to show that she does have a bit of an enjoyment of innuendoes. I don't want to see Lisa and Jack talk to each other. To Lisa, flirting is just talking and Jack…well…I don't think I need to say anything. Those two, if they ever meet, would probably throw innuendoes and flirts at each other and it just stays at that. And if poor Eric is there, he'd probably get tired of it or sees that Lisa means nothing by it. I hope you guys are enjoying this and if you guys want to point things out to me, I would fix them when I could. I can guarantee you that Michelle won't be this much of a jerk for long.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Fragile: Handle with care

I poked my head into the Console room, where I'd learned the Doctor spent most of his time. I was also careful; I didn't want to deal with Michelle while caffeine had yet to hit my system. I noticed that he was working on some part of the console, obviously oblivious to his surroundings since I knew I wasn't being altogether sneaky. I walked down the stairs, going out of my way to make my steps loud without stomping. He continued working on the console without even acknowledging my presence.

"So what broke this time?" I asked once I got to the main level, seeing him jolt a little.

"What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?" he asked, turning his head to look at me, his expression curious.

"I may as well have tap danced down the stairs," I muttered, "I was almost stomping."

"I didn't notice," he stated, turning back to what he was doing, "and nothing's broken. Nothing new, at any rate. I'm just tightening some of the controls that felt loose."

"Need any help?" I asked lightly.

"I think it's best if I do this myself."

"Oh. Is it because you're a big and mighty Time Lord or is this another instance of my being thrown a gender stereotype? Or does it have to do with the fact that I'm…different?"

"It's more along the lines of you not knowing what needs to be done to fix her," he stated before adding, "and you're a bit too clumsy for me to trust with repairing this control."

"You're one to talk. Half the time I wonder if your real name is really Butterfingers McFumbles. The other half the time, I swear it's No-plan McLuckypants."

"You really know how to lace your insults with compliments," he muttered, returning to what he was doing.

"So you're cool with the fact that I'm different?" I asked, leaning against a railing, crossing my arms in front of me, standing to his far left.

"Everyone's different, Olmstead," he stated, "and I have a habit of choosing only the best. Which is usually synonymous with 'different'."

"But were any of them… ya know… autistic?" I asked, being careful with my usage of the 'a' word.

"I'm not even close to an expert on humans," he stated, "so forgive me if I don't know what autistic means."

"Do you want the long or short explanation?" I asked.

"Preferably neither. I'm trying to concentrate here," he stated.

"Gotcha," I almost snapped at him as I pulled out my DSi XL and opened up the program on the cartridge which was inserted into the system, which held lots of "classic stories" which meant all the good stories which were no longer copyrighted.

I scanned through the list of stories and started reading 'The Time Machine'. After the first few paragraphs, I was almost certain that the Time Traveler in the story had to have been based loosely on the Doctor. It sounded almost like him to the point that I could almost hear him speak. What I didn't know at the time was that he was speaking to me to get my attention. He certainly got my attention when he waved his hand between my face and the screens.

"Yes, Doctor?" I asked, lifting my face to look at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at me oddly.

"Reading," I stated, showing him the screen.

"H.G. Wells' 'The Time Machine'. Nice choice," he stated with a grin, "I've finished the repairs. The girls should be back soon."

"They left? I didn't know that," I stated, feeling a bit left out.

"They wanted to go shopping. Michelle said that she asked if you wanted to go but you declined."

"She didn't even say anything to me," I stated with a frown right before the doors opened and Clara and Michelle walked in, laughing as if they just shared a joke.

Even if I had been left out and been chosen last every time people had to form groups, it didn't mean that I had gotten to the point where it didn't affect me. It stung, being left out and forgotten. I made sure that Michelle got the message by giving her as much of a glare I could muster as I closed the gaming system, crossing my arms in front of myself.

She walked closer to me, carrying large bags as she walked. She only stopped when there were only a few inches between us. If I'd been her height, I would've been intimidated. Instead, because I was a few inches taller than her, it felt more like the yapping of a small dog. I looked down at her, continuing to glare at her.

"Now don't look at me in that tone of voice," she said as if she was chewing on lemons, "who was the one who made that first shot about my not being important?"

"Who was the one who took the phrase intending to mean that I only care about the thoughts and opinions of those I care about to mean something completely different?" I asked evenly.

"No fighting in the TARDIS!" the Doctor exclaimed, trying to insert himself into the confrontation.

"Did you not use the two words 'not important'?" she asked.

"Followed by the two words 'to me', yes," I answered.

"And I thought we were friends," she stated, breaking out the water works.

I slumped, my glare changing with my mood as I felt completely uncomfortable. I became uncertain on how to handle such an emotional outburst like that. I didn't know how it was like trusting someone completely within an hour. It took me until I'd met the Doctor the second time for me to trust him.

"I…I don't…I don't trust…that easily. Or quickly," I stated, looking elsewhere in shame and guilt.

"Or rather, you don't trust at all!" she fumed.

"No. I trust people. Certain people. Certain people who have earned my trust. By treating me like a person, regardless of how unusual I am. You started down that path. And then took a U-turn once you pitched that fit over nothing. You can still earn my trust and friendship, but to do that, you need to see how horribly you're treating me," I stated.

"Melissa Olmstead!" Clara exclaimed, glaring at me as she put her hands on her hips.

"Just saying the truth from my perspective!" I exclaimed defensively.

"Apologize," the Doctor stated, his voice even.

"But I don't feel sorry for explaining my point of view," I stated.

"Then let me explain my point of view as brutally as you did," Michelle stated, "you have been pushing things onto me back when we were in that life-or-death situation, expecting me to take care of everything! And then you up and made me feel like a speck! All I did was getting fed up at how you used me and then pushed me away when you had no use for me!"

"I couldn't multitask," I stated quietly.

"So that gives you a right to foist everything on me?" she demanded, "and you'd get better at multitasking if you worked at it!"

"I thought it showed you that I trusted you a bit with things by delegating less important things to you," I stated quietly as I avoided everyone's glance, "a show of faith. I didn't see it as my taking advantage of you. I apologize if I made you feel like I was taking advantage of you."

"I guess that's the best I could get from you," Michelle stated, backing off before striding out of the room.

"I…I'm…I'm just…gonna go marinate in shame," I sputtered before trudging towards my room.

Once in my room, I started to play some music on the computer while I just laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I wasn't good enough. Not yet, at any rate. Not yet perfect, I knew I needed to work on myself some more before I felt that I was even close to being a 'good person'. I had hurt others without realizing or even noticing and I hated myself for it. It wasn't what good people do.

It was five songs later when a knock was heard on my door. Well, a series of three knocks. Three very quiet and somewhat uncomfortable knocks before the door was slowly opened.

"Yeah?" I asked, staring at the ceiling.

"I did some research," he said quietly.

"Stop walking on eggshells already," I muttered, "I'm not gonna hurt anyone. Intentionally, at least. I'd prefer it if people didn't have to get hurt just so I'd learn a lesson."

"What I could find out is that it's a spectrum disorder, meaning that it affects people in different ways. It appears as though you have a very mild case of it," he stated, trying not to be too blunt with me.

"Yeah. I have no people skills at all," I admitted, "and I'm practically incapable of multitasking. Oh and no amount of TARDIS telepathy is going to give me the comprehension of body language. Of course, all of my senses are more sensitive than the baseline human's. From my own research, either it's caused by or causes the formation of a larger than average brain with an increased number of synapses. It's definitely a theory that most of the symptoms comes from crossed wires and interference."

"Do you know what causes this?"

"There is an implied causational relationship with genetics. Possibly an aberrant mutation," I said, using some of the terminology I'd picked up from my research.

"You are aware that both Clara and Michelle are rather—"

"Yeah. I have that ability of unintentionally rubbing people the wrong way," I stated before asking, "thinking about going out on a trip of our own since the estrogen patrol went on a trip by themselves?"

"You are a girl too," he said, sounding amused.

"Yeah, but a different type of girl. I'm not what you'd call a 'girly girl', in case you're completely blind. Those two would be like estrogen factories in how they act compared to me," I stated with a smirk, "or at least very bright beacons of estrogen."

"I've noticed," he stated, "I figured it's mostly because you haven't been around other girls as much."

"Mostly because they're all boring. Most of them are talking about children, shoes, shopping, and guys. Three of which doesn't interest me. Okay, all of them doesn't interest me but that's because I'm kinda…and stop grinning like that!"

"It's just funny watching you get worked up over a bloke you keep insisting isn't your boyfriend," he said with a grin, ducking out of my room as I chucked a pillow in his general direction, missing him as the door closed.

"One of these days," I muttered with a grin, contemplating how much fun it would be to pick on him once I see him flustered over some chick.

Oh, he would know how it was like picking on me. And I would enjoy every second of it.

~~Author's Note~~

Many apologies for taking so long updating this! I just got back from RadCon last night and I've been fighting ennui for a while. I had a blast just hanging out with people. The cosplayers were awesome (and so were some of the cops, who joked that they were cosplaying too!) and I saw enough people cosplaying as Stargate Teams to fill three whole teams, 2 Tenth Doctors, and an awesome Eleventh Doctor. I also watched the firedancing and I thought it was pretty awesome (I may work firedancing into a future chapter). I've also been working on other projects (I have no life) and I've been kinda postponing a rather painful part of it (why am I such a masochist?) while occasionally re-watching the modern Doctor Who series (went through Waters of Mars to The Beast Below today... and yes, I *still* tear up at the end of End of Time even though I saw it for the first time back in September or October). I've gotten to the point that I like each different incarnation of the Doctor a different way. For example, I see 11 more like the best friend you've always wanted to have and 10 like the one that you could look up to. And 9 as the one I'd avoid angering or the one I'd find myself in snark-to-snark combat with. (Yes, I'm extremely snarky irl)

One thing I could see as becoming an issue with in this chapter is the angst and the autism discussion. As for the angst, I couldn't keep that from happening the moment when Michelle entered the scene. At least, she's shown not to be a total jerk now. As for the autism discussion, I planned from the beginning that Lisa would be a very high-functioning autistic person because of several reasons, one of which is that I am an actual officially diagnosed Aspie and every time a character is shown to be autistic, that's all there is to their character. I wanted her to have a character and have autism be half rationale for her actions and half a part of who she is. I just wanted her to have a more realistic case of it and to say that someone could actually be considered "disabled" yet be able to keep up with someone like our favorite Time Lord. Now I can see hoe people could just go "author insertion", she is definitely not me. Even when I'm on caffeine, I don't become someone who becomes almost insane. I just become a talkative loon who laughs a ton.

~Gregora


End file.
